Empty Chairs at Empty Tables
by LyricalKris
Summary: The wake of a tragedy—a school shooting—has far reaching consequences. Edward was living his life as though he had to make up for the four people who died in front of his eyes. Bella's life had been blown apart before it really started. Two strangers who happened to come back to the scene of the crime on the same day.
1. Chapter 1

**Dedication:For Packy on her birthday. You're a beautiful and precious soul. I'll always be happy you were born.**

 **So, for your birthday, darling girl, I'm going to attempt to break you. But only because you like it. ;)**

 **A/N: I would be remiss if I didn't mention a little known member of our Twi family. I don't actually know anyone else who knew JosieSwan. This sweet soul disappeared without a trace five years ago. I never have been able to find out what happened to her.**

 **Josie was the one who put this story in my head. She also had a fic by the same name in her docs about a school shooting. The idea stuck with me, obviously, so wherever you are, thank you.**

* * *

 _ **~Prologue~**_

They were all stories that hadn't really started yet. Prologues in progress.

Leah Clearwater—senior. Badass volleyball player looking at a full ride to some university across the country. She had a boyfriend a few years older than her already living in New York. After growing up in the backwoods nowhere town of Forks, she wanted to be a city girl.

 _Bitch always did think she was better than everyone else. She talks to people like they're stupid. Goddamn dyke. I'm doing Sam a favor._

Seth Clearwater—freshman. Leah's brother. He was already showing promise on the basketball court. He hadn't thought too much about the future, except that maybe he wanted to work with kids. He liked kids. He'd always wanted his mother and stepfather to have a few.

 _Everyone thinks Seth is sweet, but he's just as big of a bitch as his sister. Fucking show off. And he's disgusting. I saw him with Jacob Black under the bleachers. Fucking asshole winked at me. Makes my skin crawl._

Mike Newton—senior. His father wanted him to take over the store after he graduated from college with a business degree. Mike was going along with it for the time being, but he'd been talking lately about how maybe he wanted to be a lawyer. He liked the idea of wearing a suit to work.

 _Fucking jock. He thinks it's funny, bumping me in the hallways. He and his stupid friends always laugh. They're going to know what's funny soon._

Angela Weber—junior. Shy. Quiet. She had such a pretty smile, hidden most of the time behind a camera. She was just coming out of her shell, learning that maybe her overbearing, pastor father didn't know what was best for her. Maybe she could travel the world with her camera. Wildlife photography, maybe, but she liked people too much for that.

 _She was mine until he came along. We were alike. We belonged together. Then she thought she was better than me._

Edward Cullen—senior. He didn't know what he wanted to be yet, but every door was open to him. He was smart and athletic. He played the piano and the guitar. He'd been accepted to five different schools, but maybe he was going to travel for a year. He could if he wanted to. He hadn't decided yet.

 _Fuck Edward Cullen. Fuck. Him. He could have had anyone. Why did he take her?_

Five shiny lives tangled up together. Best friends. Given another year, nothing would be the same. Given another year, maybe none of them would be able to recognize the others. They would be scattered to the wind by the end of the semester, after all. Given time, anything could have happened.

Except, for most of them, time was up.

* * *

 ** **A/N: Many thanks to MoH, Jess, Betsy, Iris, Eleanor, and Mina for all their help as usual.****

 **This should be short. (Mina…) I'm going to guestimate 10 chapters just in case. Chapter 1 will be up later today.**

 **Happy birthday, Packy!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Remember you can always ask me if you have any questions about the content of my fics. I'm always more than happy to give you spoilers if it means you'll be more comfortable.**

* * *

 **~Then~**

"You two are disgusting. You know that, right?"

Edward tore his eyes away from his beautiful girlfriend so he could grin at his best friend. "Shut it, Leah. Just because you were dumb enough to fall for Sam two weeks before he left for college doesn't mean you get to be bitter about everyone else who has more sense than you."

She scoffed. "Angie's a junior. Did you forget?"

"And there are no colleges in Forks," Seth said.

Beside him, Mike shook his head. "But she's right. You guys are disgusting with the goo goo eyes. I'm going to lose my lunch."

Edward glanced at Angie. She smiled and ducked her head, her cheeks tinted pink from their friends' teasing. He waggled his eyebrows at her, and her lips turned up. She looked to Mike. "Just because you can't keep a girl after the first kiss doesn't mean you should take it out on us. Just how bad a kisser are you?"

"Oooo," Leah and Seth said together. Edward laughed. He loved it when Angela got sassy. He looped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her in so he could kiss her forehead. She sighed, a contented sound, and nestled against him. He stroked the side of her hair.

"Going to vomit," Leah said again, but she was smiling.

Edward was glad when they let the subject drop, turning their conversation to something else. He didn't want to think about graduation yet. He didn't want to think about colleges or travel, and he especially didn't want to think about the fact in eight months, he'd have to leave Angela behind one way or another.

It just felt like he'd wasted so much time. Like everyone who'd grown up in Forks, he'd known Angela nearly all his life. He'd never really paid attention to her. It was last summer that their families happened to be camping in the same place. He'd been by the water, sitting alone when he heard yelling. He couldn't really hear what was being said, but he saw that her father had grabbed her by the wrist and was shaking her as he shook a finger in her face.

Edward had hated the way Angela's face looked—filled with shame and obviously in pain. It had set off every protective instinct he had, and he'd had to stop himself from pushing Reverend Weber the hell away from his daughter.

The Reverend had stalked off, leaving Angela to collect herself. Edward went to her. They talked, and they'd been inseparable ever since.

Now, Edward sighed. He reached for Angela's hand under the table. She tilted her head closer to him. "What's wrong?" she whispered so their friends wouldn't hear her.

"Nothing," he said, meaning it. He cupped her cheek and kissed her—a soft, quick kiss because if they got detention for PDA, her father would never let him come over again.

She pulled back, studying him with her earnest brown eyes. "No, something's wrong. Tell me."

He smiled. She was always so aware; especially of him. Aware and genuinely concerned—not like Mike who would have laughed whatever he had to say off or even Leah who would have told him not to go emo on her. "It's really nothing. I—"

"Eric?" There was something in Mike's voice that caught Edward's attention. It was a frantic noise, that had Edward on edge even as he turned around. "Eric. Is that… What are you—"

A clap like thunder rang out. Edward thought he saw a flash of fire, and his whole world changed in an instant.

 **~Now~**

The closer to Forks High he got, the harder Edward's heart began to pound. Shivers went down his spine, and some invisible force took a vice grip on his lungs. He breathed in through his nose, focusing on driving. He gripped the steering wheel hard, and worked to clear his mind of everything. No thoughts—just the road in front of him.

Forks was still familiar to him. He'd been gone for ten years, but he knew every street, every light. Not much had changed. Forks never really progressed. Stores changed hands, sometimes names, every now and again, but that was all.

By the time Edward pulled into the parking lot, he was numb again.

It was winter break, so the parking lot was empty save for one other car. Edward paused for a moment, wondering for the millionth time why the hell he was doing this. The ten year anniversary was in another two weeks. He was being honored, but that was bullshit. He hadn't done anything. He'd survived, but that was hardly his fault.

With a sigh, Edward got out of the car. He shoved his hands deep in his coat pocket and headed for the front door of the school, ducking his head against the sharp, freezing wind.

As he got to the doors, they came open. The elderly janitor gave him a nod of greeting.

"Thank you for this," Edward said, offering his hand.

The man shook it and nodded. "I'll give you an hour before I come back to lock up."

The man left him then to his own devices. Old Mr. Hamilton had been the janitor when Edward was in school. Not that he ever would have remembered the man. But then, he supposed there were a lot of things he simply never thought of back then.

It had nothing to do with the fact he'd been young, and any teenager's world revolved around themselves. People in general were oblivious. Everyone assumed they'd have time. Time to say what they needed to say and time to do what they wanted to do. Later. There was always more time later.

Edward hadn't even gotten past the foyer yet. Except to look at Mr. Hamilton, he'd kept his eyes studiously trained on the ground. He'd done this because, on the wall directly in front of the school's entrance, he'd glimpsed the photos for a split second before he looked down.

As Mr. Hamilton's footsteps faded, Edward steeled himself. He raised his head.

There were twelve photos in all. Twelve people who'd died in this building. Edward's eyes flitted over the ones that he knew were going to hurt. He landed first on DJ Garrett. Sophomore. He'd died in the hallway because his locker was in the wrong place, and he was there at the wrong time. He wasn't on the list.

Coach Clapp. Everyone had hated him but no one so much as the unathletic kids. He'd been rough. Too rough, but not so rough that he deserved to die.

Señora Goff. She'd been having lunch with Coach Clapp in his office. She'd told Edward once he was a pleasure to listen to because his Spanish accent was flawless. Apparently, she hadn't been as complementary to Eric.

Tyler Crowley. Mike's friend. Lauren Mallory. Tyler's girlfriend. Jessica Stanley. Her best friend. They'd hidden in a darkened classroom. He'd found them anyway.

Charlie Swan. The police chief and first responder. The only other one besides DJ who hadn't been on the list.

Steven Greene. Vice principal.

Edward had known all of them. His teachers. The kids he'd grown up with. He had, of course, been well acquainted with Chief Swan.

Closing his eyes, Edward took several steadying breaths. A deep ache, never far from the surface, bubbled up in him. There were four more photos. He'd only rarely seen photos of them in the last ten years. He'd never needed a picture to remember them. Their faces were etched behind his eyelids, animated in a way no picture ever could be.

Opening his eyes, he let himself focus first on Mike. It was a good picture of him. His blue eyes sparkled with humor and a smile played at his lips. Clueless Mike who'd been a good guy at heart but whose inability to read when a joke had gone too far had ultimately gotten him killed.

Seth. Little Seth. He grinned at Edward, all smiles in this photo as he had been in life. For years, he'd been the baby brother Edward never had, constantly tagging after him and Leah. He'd always thought Leah's younger siblings were pests. That year, as a high school freshman, Edward had started to like Seth. He was funny, and always sunny, unlike Leah who had a dark, angry streak. Seth had been the youngest one to die at Forks High that day.

Leah. Her smile was cocksure, her eyes challenging as always. She'd been his best friend since her mother married Chief Swan. Charlie Swan had been one of Edward's father's best friends, and so their families were together often. When they were in second grade, Leah and Edward hated each other. They'd hated each other until they got in a fight. Leah pushed him so hard, he'd done a somersault. He thought it was so cool he asked her to push him again—he'd never been able to do a somersault before that. She called him a dummy and started to teach him how to tumble. That had been that.

Finally, though he had to force himself to do it, Edward looked at the last picture.

Angela. She stared at him from her last school photo, her smile small but achingly pretty. Her eyes soft and a little uncertain behind her glasses.

Edward shook his head hard, but the memory—the worst memory—took him anyway. The world around him warped, and he could hear the sound of kids screaming, running.

He was in pain. Blinding pain. His eyes were open, but everything was funny. It was hard to breathe.

"Seth? Sethie. Seth, no. No, no, no." He heard Leah chanting, her voice thin. He tried to focus on the sound of her voice. He saw her—just a glimpse. She was dragging herself across the floor, her right leg trailing uselessly as she clawed her way to a crumpled form. Seth lay, his back to Edward, motionless. There was blood everywhere. A pool of it under Seth. Streaks of it as Leah fell down in a heap beside her brother, sobbing.

Edward blinked again. He couldn't understand these images. His brain had stopped working. He didn't know what was happening, and he couldn't think around the pain. His lungs… he shouldn't be able to feel his lungs.

When Edward's eyes focused again, he saw Mike staring back at him. No. Mike's eyes were open, but they weren't staring. They were blank. Sightless. There was a hole right between them. A neat hole with a neat stream of blood arching down his temple.

"Edward?"

The sound of her voice was the last thing Edward heard before he pulled himself back to the present. He was breathing hard. Spots danced before his eyes, and a cold sweat made him shiver despite the heavy winter clothes he was in. He turned away and leaned against the opposite wall, braced on his arm.

After a minute, he could breathe again and he forced himself to move on. Walking through the halls of Forks High was strangely like walking through water. The voices he heard in his head were garbled—a mishmash of memories. He still remembered what it was like walking through these halls for the first time as a freshman, feeling like he'd accomplished something just by being there. High school at last. He remembered, when he was a sophomore and his older brother was a senior, Emmett had streaked down this front hall in his boxer shorts after losing a bet to his best friend. He remembered running to class, late after lunch the first time he kissed Angela. They were cuddled up in the backseat of his car and they'd gotten distracted.

Edward walked on as though in a trance. He passed through the side hall where it had all began. He'd had a locker in this hall his sophomore year. He stumbled forward until he got to the hole in the wall of lockers.

This was where it had started.

Eric Yorkie had gone through all his morning classes. Edward had government with him. For the life of him, afterward, Edward couldn't remember if he'd even glanced at him. Eric had always been a little strange. Off. Awkward. Truthfully, especially after he and Angela got together, the guy had creeped Edward out a bit. But Edward couldn't remember if he'd even spared a thought for Eric that day let alone a glance.

On the other hand, Eric must have been thinking of him. He must have sat in his chair in the back corner of the room and watched Edward. It was just an assumption, but it made sense. After all, Edward was the only one in that particular class who was on the list.

That morning, when the lunch bell rang, Eric had come down this hallway and gone to his locker where he'd stored three guns and a lot of ammo.

Both Eric and DJ's lockers were gone now. In their place was a work of art—a sculpture done by one of the students who'd been in school that day. It was a tumultuous piece—dark and light pieces clashing.

Edward was numb as he looked at the sculpture. He was anoetic—thinking nothing, feeling nothing. Sensation washed over him, but he was disconnected from it.

He continued walking, taking the path Eric must have. Had he moved quickly? No one had heard the first shot or the panic might have saved them. This hallway was the most removed one—an addition on the opposite side of the school from the cafeteria where most everyone would have been.

Halfway between the cafeteria and Eric's locker was the gym. Edward went in. His footsteps echoed across the space. He remembered the feel of this floor beneath his feet as he streaked across the basketball court. He remembered the swish of the net and his teammates—including Mike and Tyler—thwacking his back after a game well played.

He walked into the silent locker room and stood outside the coach's office. Had Eric known he would find them both there? Señora Goff had been on the list, after all. Had it been a stroke of luck—good for Eric, bad for her—that she and the coach were seeing each other?

Señora Goff had only been shot once. She died in the hospital on the operating table. The coach… Eric must have been pissed off at the coach, because from what Edward had understood, the man's body had been unrecognizable.

Edward's stomach churned and he hurried away.

At that point in Eric's journey, the school still wasn't aware of the danger. Someone had already found DJ's body and run to the office around the same time Eric entered the cafeteria.

Edward stopped in his tracks when he saw it.

Of course it was still there. Why wouldn't it be? A decade's worth of teenagers had gone to school here since that day. Ten years of kids had sat in this room for lunch. They'd laughed with each other, worried about tests, and bent their heads together to gossip just as he and his friends had done.

All around him were empty chairs at empty tables. He blinked several times, seeing in his mind's eye the way it looked at lunch that day—kids all separated into their little groups. He heard the din. He heard Leah's sarcastic laugh and remembered the way Mike's hands moved when he told a story. Edward stumbled forward and sat in "his" seat at the round table. Back then, he'd liked to sit facing the window with his back to the door.

Mike, sitting across from Edward, had seen Eric first. He must have seen it coming—the bullet Eric put between his eyes.

For Edward, it had all been booms. Several of them. Booms and flashes of light and then he was on the floor. He was on the floor and he couldn't breathe right. He was on the floor and he couldn't think around the bewildering pain. Everyone was screaming. Leah—endlessly fierce and tough as nails Leah—sounded broken and terrified.

Two people had saved Edward's life in this room.

Eric was still there. He'd come to stand over Edward. Edward couldn't look at him. He couldn't look away from his friends. He heard the gun cock close to his ear and knew Eric was aiming at him. Again. He knew he'd already been shot, and Eric was going to finish the job. He knew these things. He couldn't comprehend them, but he knew.

Before that last shot, another voice rung out. "Son. Drop it!"

Instead, Eric turned and shot at Chief Swan, who'd entered the building alone after the first call. Charlie shot back.

Over the din of the gunfire, Edward heard only one voice.

"Edward."

His eyes found Angela. She was on the floor too, not that far from him. Their bodies were facing opposite directions, but they were face to face. She coughed. Blood stained her lips, but her eyes were peaceful, her expression sweet. She was so sweet.

Red bloomed like a flower, growing larger against the white of her cardigan.

She reached for him, and, unthinking, he reached for her. Both of their hands were blood stained. He clutched her fingers.

"Don't be scared," she whispered. "I love you."

He'd tried to find his voice, but he couldn't speak. He could barely breathe now.

"Close your eyes," she said, and he obeyed.

Angela had told him to close his eyes, and so when Eric had looked back at him after his shoot out with Charlie, he'd thought Edward was dead. He'd moved on, determined to check as many people off his list as he could before he ultimately shot himself.

"Don't be scared. I love you. Close your eyes."

Edward stared down at the floor, imagining his friends where they'd fallen. Imagining his own body. He imagined the five of them, their blood pooling and mingling together like they never would again in life.

Seth and Mike had died instantly. Leah had died two days later in the hospital.

Angela died on this floor, clutching Edward's hand.

"Don't be scared. I love you. Close your eyes."

Being shot had been the worst physical pain Edward could have imagined. A pain so terrible he couldn't even scream.

The emotion that hit him then was worse. Far worse. It was his guts being ripped out and his lungs being squeezed and his heart twisting, writhing in agony in his chest. He clenched his hands in fists and banged them on the table, leaning forward over it. He gasped at the strength of his grief. His lips moved but no sound came out.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry.

He'd survived.

Their blood had been mopped off the floor. The bullet holes had been patched up. The world had gone on. His friends—his girlfriend—never would. A decade had passed, but Edward still hadn't figured out how to live with that. Everyone who'd sat at this table had died, but he was still here.

Would he ever be able to accept it?

* * *

 **A/N: We'll meet Bella next chapter. See how she's holding up.**

 **How are you guys?**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Good evening (morning), my duckies. Thank you for coming with me. I know this one is a hard one for a lot of you.**

* * *

 _ **~Then~**_

Lunch had ended, and everyone was headed for their next class when a commotion started to work its way through the hallways. Someone was yelling something Bella couldn't understand. Then, there was screaming and crying. Some kids started running.

The principal came on over the loudspeaker ordering everyone to their classrooms where they could be counted. Bella's heart was beating a mile a minute. When she started moving again, it was at a trot. The classrooms seemed safer than the open hallway. Around her, some kids had started to cry.

That was when she heard it. "People are dead at the high school. Someone was shooting."

Bella's heart stopped beating. Forks only had the one high school. The high school her step-brother and sister attended.

She ran. The front doors were blocked by several teachers telling the kids to turn around and go back to their classrooms. Bella shouldered her way through the mob and headed instead toward the drama classroom. She wasn't in drama, but she worked on the sets when the drama kids put on a play. She knew the room like the back of her hand, and she knew there was an exit out to the side of the building.

In minutes, she was outside. Forks High was across the field from the junior high. The commotion told her what she hadn't let herself believe. Something was very, very wrong. Police cars—their lights flashing—were pulled up haphazardly. Bella ran to them on instinct.

She saw Officer Marks first—shouting something into the walkie on his shoulder while he waved screaming high school students toward the parking lot. Everyone was yelling—parents and kids shouting names, looking for loved ones. Bella scanned the parking lot, each one of her frantic heartbeats chanting Seth and Leah's names.

Bella was a cop's kid. She knew damn well she shouldn't bother the officers. There were too few of them to begin with, and this scene was chaotic as hell. But when it came down to it, she couldn't help it. She grabbed Officer Marks' arm. "Where's my dad?"

Her dad would know what was going on. If she could find him, everything would be okay. If she could find him, he would tell her Seth and Leah were fine. He'd keep them all safe.

"Bella, you—"

His walkie squawked with two messages, one after the other, from the walkie. "Shooter is down. The situation is contained. I'm going back for the chief now. Where are the damn medics?"

Ice went down Bella's spine. Officer Marks shifted, facing her. "Sending them in now." He waved at Forks' tiny crew of medics. They only had the one ambulance.

"Where's the chief? Where's my dad?" Bella shook Officer Marks. "Why do you have to go back for him?"

"Bella—"

But she was already running.

"Catch her," Officer Marks shouted, and suddenly, Bella found arms wrapped around her in an iron grip.

Bella screamed and kicked out, trying desperately to get free. "Let me go! Let me go!"

"Calm down, Bella," the man said. "Come on. Just calm down."

"Oh, God. Oh, hell." She could still hear the officer on the walkie. "The chief is… Jesus. He's dead. He's gone."

The arms around Bella tightened, and she screamed. It was a long, horrible sound she didn't even know she was capable of making. Then, she sagged over the arm holding her, limp and lifeless as she started to sob.

 _ **~Now~**_

Bella had been dreading this call.

It had been a year since she'd moved back to Forks. When she accepted this job—assisting the district's handyman—she'd known she would end up at Forks High eventually.

She took a deep breath as she got out of the car. The icy air helped quell the nausea that twisted in the pit of her belly. Once upon a time, she was desperate to get to Forks High. As fate would have it, she never would set foot in Forks High as a student.

Bella walked around to the side of the school where the maintenance entrance was located. She let herself in, and set her toolbox down. The regular maintenance man—her boss, Mr. Cheney—had left specific instructions about some problems they were having with the heaters in the right side classrooms.

Half an hour passed before she had to admit she was stalling. It was ridiculous to have anxiety over being in a school. Most of her family had died here, but that wasn't the school's fault. There would be no blood on the wall. There wasn't even that much of them left; nothing to show they'd been there at all.

Stepping out into the dim light of the hallway was surreal. It was, after all, a normal high school—its floors scuffed from wear and walls lined with posters. It was quiet—so different from the scene she'd imagined so many times in the last decade.

She'd imagined the screams. The gunshots.

She'd imagined what her father must have been thinking as he ran through these halls toward the cafeteria. Had his heart pounded the way hers was now, or was he calm—prepared? She supposed she looked calm on the outside, so even if her imagination only ever painted an image of her father looking in control, that didn't mean it was how he'd felt. Had he been terrified, or had he not taken a stupid kid with a gun seriously? She wondered if his hands had shaken as he walked, gun out. Her hands were shaking right then. It was getting difficult to hold the toolbox.

As she neared the cafeteria, it took her a full minute to figure out the soft weeping she heard wasn't her imagination. She wasn't alone. Someone was there—crying.

Bella set down her toolbox and took out the biggest hammer she owned. Getting a firm grip on it, she headed slowly toward the last place she wanted to be.

The cafeteria was as dimly lit as the rest of school. It was the creepiest room in the building—the chairs sitting at tables as though they were ghosts waiting for life to return to the halls. The cafeteria was empty save for a single person sitting at one of the tables near the other entrance. It was a man. He sat with his head cradled in his arms.

Bella hesitated. At the best of times, she could be socially awkward. She'd just never taken to people, especially after she'd lost her family. She had no idea what to do with an adult man in tears.

He wasn't crying hysterically by any stretch of the imagination. In fact, he probably wouldn't appreciate being interrupted by a stranger.

Just as she'd decided to back away, her foot caught on one of the chairs. She stumbled, and her arms pinwheeled; the hammer went flying. She ended up crashing to the floor, bringing several chairs with her. She found herself staring up at the ceiling, blinking as she tried to figure out what had just happened.

"Are you okay?"

Bella blinked a few more times until the face hovering above her came into focus. The stranger had sad green eyes, red-rimmed from crying. He was beautiful.

He was also familiar. "Edward Cullen?" she asked, incredulous.

His brows furrowed then they went wide. "Bitty?"

Bella grimaced but took the hand he offered, letting him pull her into a sitting position. "Don't call me that." It was what Leah used to call her and Edward, being her little lapdog, had joined in.

To Bella's shock, Edward pulled her to him for a tight hug. "God. Bitty. I mean…Bella." He pulled back. "Sorry. I didn't expect to see you."

"Yeah," Bella scoffed. "It wasn't exactly in my plan of things to do today."

"What are you doing here?" he asked as they both stood.

"I work here."

He arched his eyebrows. "Are you a teacher?"

She laughed. The sound somewhat bitter. "No. Not a teacher." Bella smoothed her hands down her side, unsure why she was so defensive. She was still shaken, both by her fall and just being here. Speaking of a school full of ghosts… "You don't even live here."

"Ah." He rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah. I didn't think you did either."

A little wobbly in the knees, Bella sat down in the nearest upright chair. "How do you know that?"

Edward sat down across from her. "I tried to find you." His voice was quiet as he spoke. Gentle. He put his hands on the table and folded his fingers together. "It took me a couple of years to get my life together after…" He waved his hand around the cafeteria. "After this. Of course I thought of you. You and your stepmother lost the most that day."

Bella shivered and sat up, crossing her arms. "There's a contest you never want to win." She nodded at him, calming a little. "Though I'm not sure you're right." She eyed him purposefully.

He ducked his head. "You're right about it being a contest I'd rather , I'd still say it was no contest at all." He looked up, his eyes as soft as his voice. "I didn't lose my family, and my stability."

"Stability?" Was this guy talking about her mental health? And what did he know, anyway?

Edward winced. "Sorry. That was out of turn. Leah used to say that you lived with them most of the time because your mother was, uh…"

"A flake who couldn't be bothered to stay in one place long enough to let me get through even a single semester in the same place?" Bella asked, catching on now. Leah hadn't been someone who believed in tact. She'd told Bella many times what she thought of her mother. She told her even more often what she thought of Bella for being Renee's daughter.

"Your mother didn't settle down even after everything?"

Bella shrugged. "The shooting didn't change who she is." She shuddered. "Look, I don't want to be rude, but it's giving me the creeps to be in here." She kept wondering where her father's body lay. Somewhere in this room, but where?

"Yeah, I was done here." He looked hesitant as he stood again. "Listen, do you think we can grab a cup of coffee? Or lunch? Catch up?"

"Um…" She had a childish urge to say no. The Edward she'd known hadn't liked her. But that was over ten years ago when they were literally children, and everything had changed since then. She was the only connection he had left with his best friend.

"That's right. You said you were working," he said, misinterpreting her silence. "Maybe after you get off?"

He had such an earnest look on his face, Bella's defensiveness melted. A little. "No, that's okay. I don't have set hours. This has to be done before my boss gets back from vacation, but that's a few days from now." Her lip twitched. "How about Pacific Pizza?"

His answering smile was sad and wry. She knew he'd made the connection. As soon as he and Leah had been allowed to wander around town on their own, they'd hung out at Pacific Pizza. In the early days, Bella and Seth both begged to go with them. After Seth got to high school, they'd pulled him into their little group. Bella had never rated.

Edward nodded. "Good plan. I'll meet you there?"

Some minutes later they stood at the counter, going over the menu. "What did you guys used to get?"

"Ha. Depended on the day, and who was with us. Seth could eat a large by himself, I swear." Edward cocked his head, considering her. "When it was just Leah and me, we'd split a pepperoni, olive, and pineapple pizza."

"That sounds good."

When they sat across from each other, Bella couldn't help but laugh. He arched an eyebrow. "What?"

"I was just thinking that thirteen-year-old me would have already died by now."

"Why?"

"Why do you think? I had a crush on you, of course."

His eyes popped. "What?"

"Does that really surprise you?"

"Well, yes. We weren't very nice to you." He looked down at the table, obviously ashamed. "I wasn't very nice to you."

"We were kids. You're supposed to be mean to your best friend's kid sister." She rolled her eyes. "And thirteen-year-old girls aren't exactly known for their taste in men. Although, to be honest, my track record since then hasn't been stellar either. But that's kind of how my life has gone since then."

He looked sad, and she cocked her head, her own expression unapologetic. "Not what you wanted to hear, right?" Bella didn't play the game of pleasant small talk. He'd said he wanted to catch up; she wasn't going to write him a fairy tale.

"Of course I want to hear that your life has been nothing but good things after what you've been through, but I don't need you to lie for my sake."

"I've never spent a single night on the streets. I'm not an addict. I've never been sexually assaulted, though I had a boyfriend for a little while who liked to slap me around." She scoffed. "I let him get away with it once. The second time, I kicked him in the balls and left. I dated a few assholes who some people might say verbally abused me, if you believe in that kind of thing." She spread her hands out wide. "So it could have been worse." She sat back, sipping her soda. "How about you?"

He blinked several times, obviously thrown. "I, uh…" He gave a small laugh and rubbed a hand over his eyes before he regained his composure. "I've also never spent a single night on the streets. I drink probably more than I should. I've never had an abusive girlfriend, but then again, I've never really had a girlfriend. I was punched by a guy once, but security got to him before I could."

"Why have you never had a girlfriend?"

His mouth tugged up at the corner. "Commitment issues." He shrugged. "Mostly the issue is not having the time to commit to a relationship. There hasn't really been any downtime for me in the last decade, if that makes sense. And, I'm not really the dating type. That whole process seems exhausting to me."

Bella snorted. "I don't date either. The slap-happy asshole was the only guy I've ever considered a boyfriend, and if you want to know the truth, I wasn't too attached to him. Only in the literal sense. We had a place together for a hot minute because it's not like either of us could afford a place on our own. Up until recently, my lifestyle has been pretty nomadic. "

"When did you end up back in Forks?"

"Ahh." Bella ducked her head, wondering for a minute why she was telling this virtual stranger the story of her life. "About a year ago, I got into some trouble. Which isn't uncommon for me, to tell the truth. I get in a little bit of trouble here and there. Nothing deadly, but I guess I've been in handcuffs more than once in my life, and been evicted, and...whatever.

"So, the last time, I couldn't get ahold of my mom." Bella rolled her eyes. As though that was a surprise. "I called Sue."

"Your stepmother?" Edward asked, verifying.

"Yeah." Now Bella's tone was soft. "I didn't want to. I didn't want to bother her with that crap. I...you know, I love her. She always treated me well. I didn't blame her for shutting down the way she did when her real kids died, though. Losing two husbands in the span of eight years was bad enough, but two kids on top of that?" She shook her head. "Anyway. I tried not to bother her with my bullshit, but I called her that time.

"She helped me get my shit together. She told me she'd kept my dad's house here in Forks, and that I should have it. It was my dad's after all. His family's house, and she didn't want to come back here." Bella made a face. "I didn't either, but no rent? I couldn't say no to that. Not from where I was sitting."

"So here you are," Edward said. He winced. "And you work at the school?"

The words brought the surreal chill back, and Bella shivered, crossing her arms over her chest. "No. I don't work at the school. In fact, today was the first time I'd been back there."

"I don't understand. You said—"

"I work for the guy who does maintenance for the school district," Bella interrupted before he could think she was a liar or a stalker or had been there to rob the school. "He farms out work to me when he's got too much or, like now, when he's on vacation. It's not a steady job, and I haven't had to go to the high school before now."

"Oh. I guess that makes two of us, then."

Bella looked at him. "This is the first time you've been back here?"

His cheek twitched. "Being in that cafeteria was the last memory I had of Forks up until this morning. I woke up in Seattle, and I never went back."

Bella nodded. She remembered that. Forks' tiny hospital wasn't equipped for the kind of injuries Edward had. The best surgeon on staff was his own father. "Can't say I blame you."

"How is it being back here?" His expression was tight but curious as he looked at her.

Damn. His green eyes were so, so pretty.

Bella cleared her throat. "It sucks. Too many ghosts." _I hate that house._ She wanted to say the words out loud, but she hadn't told anyone that part. "I hate how people react to me being back," she said instead. "And I also hate the ones who don't react; who don't remember because they were too young, or they weren't here. Then, the ones who do remember look at me with this look I can't stand."

"Pity. But also like they think they should share it with you," Edward said.

"Yes." Bella nodded. "It happened to all of us. That's what they say."

"When it didn't happen to all of them. Not all of them lost someone." He looked down. "And they weren't all there."

Bella felt like a tool then. She had her imagination, and the hellish experience of going to a funeral service with three coffins front and center. He'd experienced things she would only ever be able to see in her nightmares. "Shit. I'm sorry. I'm doing the same thing. I wasn't there."

He raised his head, his smile small and sad now. "Talking about it isn't the same thing as trying to share the experience with me."

"No." Bella shuddered. "I think about it a lot. What it would feel like to be shot at all, let alone by a kid you passed by in school. I don't even remember what Yorkie looked like."

Edward blanched at the sound of his name, but he didn't speak.

"And I don't know what it's like to watch my friends, my girlfriend, die. That's a whole other hell I can't share with you."

"Yeah." His voice was rough, gravelly when he spoke. He stood up. "Pizza's ready."

When he came back, an awkward silence had descended on them. Bella didn't know what to say. Every time she tried to think of something, she'd get stuck in a loop of thought, of memories—snatches of conversations and images from the past.

The pizza tasted like sawdust, but she chewed it anyway.

"Leah loved you, you know."

Bella was so lost in thought, she jumped at the sound of Edward's voice.

"Sorry," he said. "And you probably knew that. I know we were assholes to you, but she loved you. She and Seth both."

Bella very much doubted that, but she smiled anyway. "Yeah, well. Feeling was mutual."

 _ **~0~**_

Despite the elephant in the room, the conversation got too heavy for either of them. By unspoken agreement, they took the topic of the shooting and their lives afterward off the table. They filled the rest of the lunch time with nonsense talk. Movies they'd seen. Places they'd been. Bella noticed that a lot of the places Edward had been involved airplanes and other countries. She'd been to Mexico and Canada, but the only planes she'd been on had shuttled her between her parents when she was younger. They didn't talk about that either.

Edward was surprisingly easy to talk to. And nice. Much nicer than his teenage self had been.

Eventually, though, they both gave up pretending they were hungry. Edward's phone rang, and Bella really did want to get this miserable job over with. Edward walked her back to her truck. He put a hand on her door before she could close it.

Startled, Bella looked back at him. There was conflict in his eyes, and it took a full ten seconds before he met her gaze. "Can I see you again? Maybe tonight?"

She had to laugh. "Are you asking me on a date?" she asked just to tease him.

"Uhhh… Sure. Yeah. Yes."

Bella's eyebrows made for her hairline. "But you don't date."

"Neither do you. We might as well not date together."

"Great. How about seven?"

He grinned. It was the kind of smile that made a person—or maybe just her—a touch lightheaded. "I can do seven. Can I pick you up?"

Fucking surreal day. She laughed again, because that was ridiculous, too. She had a truck, after all. "Yeah, why not. You remember the place, right?"

His smile fell, but not all the way. "Yeah. Yeah, I remember."

They both lingered a beat. Bella didn't know whether she should apologize, but Edward reached out and brushed his fingers briefly over her cheek.

"Be safe. I'll see you tonight."

Then, he closed her door and headed for his car.

* * *

 **A/N: Mew.**

 **How are we doing, kiddos?**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: If you're in my Facebook group, you know I've been struggling with my mental health, which isn't conducive to writing. So if you're reading one of my other fics and waiting for an update, I'm trying to feed my mojo. Right now, I'm writing whatever will speak to me.**

 **But I just finished the first of three final classes for my degree. By Monday, I'll have no school left! How exciting is that? College graduate me. Hopefully, it will also free up a little brain-space.**

 **Anyway. Onward!**

* * *

"I'm not coming back to Seattle today."

On the other end of the phone, Edward could practically see his mother blinking. She'd begged him to let her go with him, but he'd refused. "Edward, just this morning you couldn't stand the thought of being there."

"It was terrible." His throat closed at the memory. He'd never be able to explain how walking down the hallways of Forks High felt like he was walking through a river of blood. "I have no idea how I'm going to sit through the ceremony."

"You know you don't have to." His mother's voice was soothing and understanding as always. "Is it… Are you having some kind of reaction, sweetheart? Is that why you can't drive back?

Edward had to smile. A reaction. As though he'd taken a new medicine and it had made him break out in hives. But it was as adequate a description as any. His mother had been present for many of his most severe flashbacks and worst moments. She'd been terrified of that possibility—that he'd have a disabling panic attack setting foot in the school and no one would be there to help him. "It's not that, Mom. Um." He closed his eyes, debating briefly if he wanted to get into this with his mother. "Do you remember Bella Swan?"

"Little Bitty?" It was Emmett who spoke then. His mother must have put him on speaker. "I remember her."

"Yeah. Hey, Em? You used to take girls out in Forks. What the hell did you do here?"

There was a pause on the other line, and Edward could have kicked himself. He could tell his brother was holding back laughter when he spoke. "You want to run that by me again? You're taking a girl out? No, wait. You're taking Bitty out? Like on a date?"

Yeah, that had definitely been a mistake. "It's not a date. Not really. I just asked if I could see her again tonight, that's all."

There was silence on the other line save for a soft chortling Edward identified as his father. Great, so everyone was there. He huffed. "You guys are wonderful. I'll call you later."

"No. Honey, wait." Esme sounded too amused to ease Edward's irritation. "I'm sorry. This just isn't what we expected when you went down there alone. Why don't you back up and tell us what happened?"

So, Edward told the story. He glossed over the parts he'd rather not think about. His time in the school before Bella arrived was a muddy mess of emotions he hadn't sorted out yet. His memories, good and bad, tangled up with an overwhelming sense of injustice. High school. At the time, it had felt so big. Now, as an adult, he knew just how little his high school experience was. There was a whole world out there his friends couldn't even imagine.

He talked about Bella scaring the hell out of him—when the chairs clattered, the loud noise had sent him into a brief panic. Something was happening again in that room. Something devastating. He'd seen her body on the floor and for three awful seconds as he ran to her, he'd thought it was happening all over again.

But then he'd seen that the girl—woman—was fine, just dazed. There was no blood. The screaming was all in his head. There was depth in her pretty brown eyes. Not like Mike's eyes, which had been blank and lifeless in death.

His parents, especially, were concerned with Bella. They'd spoken of her often right after it happened, wondering what had become of her. She'd always been polite to them. A good girl, and her father's joy. Charlie, they'd said, had wondered if he was doing right by his often too-quiet little girl. Edward was evasive when he talked about what she'd been up to these past ten years. She'd been so blunt with him, but that didn't mean she wanted him shouting her troubles to anyone who would listen.

"I don't think life's treated her very well," he said instead. "It's not a date. Not really. Neither of us is into that kind of thing. I just wanted to spend more time with her. I couldn't let lunch be it."

"I think that's understandable," Esme said.

"Hey, does she still look like a boy?" Emmett asked. Someone, maybe his wife, smacked his arm. "Ow. Hey, what? She did. She was all skinny and gangly, even as a teenager."

"She was thirteen," Edward said, vaguely annoyed for some reason. "She's…"

It wasn't as though he hadn't noticed Bella had grown into a stunning woman. He had eyes, and he was a red-blooded, heterosexual male. He liked the shape of her ass. He liked the curve of her body. He liked the shape of her lips and the challenge in her eyes. But none of that was the point.

"She's grown up, that's all," he finished lamely.

"Uh huh. Well, I don't know what to tell you, man. Forks was never a dating hot spot. That's why so many kids did drugs."

"Emmett," their mother said, scandalized. "Did you do drugs?"

"Ah, don't open a box you can't deal with, Mom. And don't think your golden child was an innocent snowflake either." He paused. "Don't look at me like that. We both ended up okay."

"Okay, so we can safely cross drugs off the list," Edward said dryly. Inwardly, he wondered about Bella and drugs. Not an addict, she'd said, but that didn't mean she hadn't been involved with them. "What else did you do with your girlfriends?"

"What did you do with _your_ girlfriend?"

Edward's heart panged, and he stared down at his hands. The rush of guilt he felt was probably stupid. High school relationships rarely lasted. If Angela had lived, they probably wouldn't have survived a long distance relationship. Still, especially being back in Forks with memories of her sweet smile at every turn, it felt wrong to be talking about seeing another woman.

"Sorry," Emmett said, catching on.

"It's fine. And I only had the one girlfriend. We didn't really date. It was just a lot of hanging out." And making out. Talking about what their future would be out of Forks with their noses brushing and lips touching every once in awhile. Nothing he could really do with Bella.

Emmett snorted. "You think I did anything different? It's just that we hung out when parents and pesky little brothers weren't home. You know what I mean?"

"Are you trying to give your mother a heart attack? Ignorance is bliss, son," Carlisle said in the background, sounding amused.

"Bygones, Mom. I made it out of my teens without overdosing or alcohol poisoning or a surprise baby. It's fine." He chuckled. "Really, Edward. If it was summer, I might have some other suggestions for you. But unless you're going to hit up a bar, your choice is one of the restaurants, in which case you have a curfew."

Edward drummed his fingertips on the steering wheel, considering. He definitely wasn't going to take Bella to a bar without knowing what vices she wanted to stay away from. "I guess I'll have to get creative. Anyway. I'll call you tomorrow."

"Good luck, bro!" Emmett called before Edward could disconnect.

 _ **~0~**_

It was strange pulling up to the Swan house. Even in the darkness, the house was familiar. When he looked to his passenger seat, he was almost shocked not to see Leah there, stalling for a few minutes while they finished cackling their fool heads off about whatever it was they were talking about. Before he'd had a car, he'd annoyed his parents. They'd pull up to drop Leah off, and he and Leah would be in the backseat, heads bent together, snickering at something or another.

Edward had plenty of friends these days, but none like Leah. Really, none like any of the people he'd lost a decade ago.

Shaking that off as best he could, Edward got out of the car. He shivered. The cold was the kind that bit into every inch of his skin and slipped beneath his jacket. He readjusted his gloves as he headed up the walk.

"Hey," Bella said in greeting. She pulled the door open and darted back inside. "Come in," she called over her shoulder. "Sorry. I got distracted. Give me a second, okay?"

Edward closed the door, looking around. A chill went down his spine. The house was almost exactly like he remembered it. Same furnishings. The chief's biggest catch on the wall, along with a few pieces of Quileute art.

Bella had taken all the pictures of the family down. Recently, too. Their shadows were still visible on the wall going up the stairs. As sad as it made him, Edward was also relieved. He'd driven to this house with no small amount of trepidation. He could already hear their voices in his head. He didn't really want to see Leah and Seth on the walls here like they had been in the school. He didn't want to see the Chief standing proudly by his family. He didn't want to see Sue smiling and happy. He didn't want to see little Bella, shy and out of place, but still part of this mottled family.

The house was the same, and yet it was different. Like the school, too quiet.

"You were right," Edward said quietly as he stepped into the living room where Bella had disappeared.

She didn't look up right away. She was seated cross legged in front of the coffee table. There were parts spread out all around her, and she had her phone opened to an internet page. "What was I right about?"

"There are ghosts here."

She raised her eyes to meet his, and smiled a sad smile. "Too creepy for you?"

"No," Edward said, not quite telling the truth. He sat down in the chief's chair. Her eyes followed him as he did it, but she didn't stop him. "But it would be, I think, if I had to be here alone. How do you do it?"

She snorted softly, returning her eyes to her work. "You can do a lot of things if you don't have much of a choice." She shrugged. "I mean, I guess I do have a choice, right? In that way people say they always have a choice? Technically, I have more now than I've had since I turned eighteen and inherited a nice chunk from my dad's life insurance policy. Sue signed this house over to me. She owned it free and clear, and now I do. I could sell it, and use the money to be somewhere else, but then what?

"A house in Forks isn't worth what a house other places is. And I'd still have no job. No real provable skills. No plan." She smirked, her tone turning wry. "I did that for a long time. Just keep moving. Keep moving until you find somewhere that feels like home." She shook her head. "Didn't work out so well for me, so I'm trying staying still for a minute."

Sighing, she looked around and shivered. "Sometimes I think I should be strong enough to keep going. Be one of those stories, you know? Pick a big city and figure out how to stay there?"

"Yeah," Edward said with a laugh. "I know that problem. I lived in New York City for a while. I went to school out there, and I had a shitty one bedroom apartment I shared with six people."

Bella's eyebrows arched in surprise. "Six?"

"Yeah. One of those set ups where one of my roommates slept on an inflatable bed in the kitchen. We had to step over him and his girlfriend or boyfriend of the moment to get to the coffee."

They both laughed. She had a nice laugh.

"Yeah, I think I topped out at four roommates, but then again, I've never tried to live anywhere that was as high rent as I hear New York City is." She quirked her lips.

"Ah." Edward shrugged. "It was really my own fault. I could have lived in the dorms, but I was nineteen. I'd taken a penny-ante job, and I guess I was trying to prove my independence. It didn't last long. The next semester, I moved back to campus housing."

Bella nodded. "What's your degree in?"

"Business."

Bella nodded again, more slowly this time. "Uh huh." She pressed her lips together, concentrating on what she was doing for a moment. "A business major in school in New York City."

"Yes."

She glanced at him. "That was what Leah wanted to do."

The way she looked at him, Edward got a weird sense as though she were seeing straight down to his soul. Like he wasn't fooling her, though he hadn't really been trying to fool anyone. He swallowed the lump that had risen to his throat. "Yeah."

She looked back to the table, concentrating again. "Hey, it's more than I could accomplish. I barely graduated from high school last year." She took a quick look at him from underneath long eyelashes.

Edward wasn't shocked at that point. His heart twisted. She was smart; he knew that. Chief Swan never did shut up about this or that honor his little girl used to get. Leah could be derisive about it, but she was also really proud.

" _My kid sister got her essay in a magazine_ ," she'd told him once, grinning. " _Pretty cool, right?_ "

How far had this girl fallen that she hadn't even graduated high school on time?

"Where'd you learn to do all this?" Edward asked, tilting his chin at the laptop she'd been working on. "I have to admit, when my laptop is broken, I take it to the Geek Squad."

"I graduated from the school of YouTube at Google University." She smiled. "It was necessity. When things would break around the house, when I lived with my mother, I mean, it would take her forever to get things fixed. And sometimes it was about money and crappy landlords. You know, if I didn't want to freeze to death before I could afford a repair person or the landlord got off his ass. That kind of thing."

She pointed at the laptop spread in pieces across the coffee table. "This is about survival pure and simple. Without my laptop, I lose my connection to the outside world."

It was a joke, but it also wasn't. Her smile was too wan for her comment to be completely facetious. She shrugged and started to put the laptop back together again. "Anyway. I think I really started to pick apart machines because they can be understood. Humans? I still don't know if I get humans."

"Yeah," Edward said, mouth suddenly gone dry. "Me either."

He'd spent so much of the last decade of his life wondering why, searching for answers he could never have. When had the majority of his class decided Eric was the "weird" kid. Had he really been that weird? Had he always been a sociopath or had they all had a hand in making him what he became?

"Ugh. I'm sorry." Bella shook her head. "This is heavy stuff. See, this is another reason why I don't date. I have no concept of socially acceptable conversation."

He snorted. "Bella, I picked you up in the same room my friends and your family were gunned down. It's not exactly the best place to meet for lighthearted."

She was quiet at that, and Edward was stunned. Had he really said that out loud? He never talked about the shooting so bluntly. Always, he and his family tiptoed around exactly what had happened. They talked about loss, but not murder. Not blood. Not gore. Not violence.

"Sorry," he said.

She shook her head and pushed herself up so she was sitting on the couch. "It's not a date anyway, right? Because neither of us do that."

"Right. No rules."

"Good. I suck at rules." She smiled. "So, what do you have planned?"

He rubbed the back of his neck. "Ah, well. About that… You see, Forks is boring as hell…"

Her smiled widened. "Yeah. No shit."

"I was wondering if you would take it the wrong way if I invited you to my hotel room. We could take out Sully's and get a crappy pay-per-view movie."

"Well, I can already tell you it's going to be the most fun I've had in Forks all year."

 _ **~0~**_

Some hours later, they were sitting on the floor, their backs against Edward's bed. Their burgers were eaten, blackberry shakes drunk, the credits were rolling on _Batman Vs. Superman_ , and Bella was laughing.

He really did like her laugh.

"No, no, no. Worst Lois Lane ever. Seriously. She pissed me off so much," Bella said.

"Gee, I couldn't tell from the way you yelled at her every time she got thrown off a building."

"Or walked into the middle of an obvious set-up. Or… you know what, no. Whatever. It's not her fault. It's piss-poor writing."

"Plus what they did to the Lex Luthor storyline is criminal." Edward shook his head.

"No, I really couldn't care less that they changed the Lex Luthor storyline. I give zero fucks about storyline changes. Plus, I really like that Eisenberg kid for some reason," Bella said.

"There's nothing wrong with the actor. He was fine. It's like you said. The writing."

"I liked his part."

Edward quirked an eyebrow. "I'll bet you did. Which one specifically."

"Ha." Bella grinned at him. It was a lazy, sleepy grin.

They lapsed into silence, their gaze lingering. They were sitting practically shoulder to shoulder. She was so close, he swore he could feel the heat of her body. Or was it just the heat in the room? They'd turned the heater on high when they got in. Maybe too high, Edward thought. He was certainly very warm.

Not just warm. Electric.

And his gaze kept wandering down to her lips. And she was looking at his.

Her lips moved. "You didn't meet me today, you know."

Edward blinked and looked back up at her eyes again. "What?"

"You said earlier that we met in the cafeteria. We didn't." She licked her lips, drawing his attention there again. "Do you remember when we met?"

"Um. No. I think, for me, you were just always around. Your dad married Leah's mom when you were what? Six?"

"And I didn't come to live with them until I was seven. But I met you before that."

"Did you?"

"Yeah. There was this picture in one of my dad's albums. I was close to one, so my mom hadn't left with me yet. It must have been like the one single sunny day Forks had that summer. The folks—mine and yours—had a BBQ. They had a play pen out there for me." Her lips quirked up. "And in the picture, you—five-year-old misfit—had climbed into the playpen and stolen my pacifier. So I was crying and you were sitting there with a pacifier in your mouth pretending you were a baby, too." She giggled.

"Wow. No wonder you had a crush on me."

"Yeah, twelve years later."

"I must have left an impression."

Bella snickered, then she sighed. "You know what sucks?"

"Besides me at five? Sucking on a dirty pacifier."

She grinned. "Yeah, besides that." She yawned and sighed again. "It's going to suck going back to an empty house."

The thought made him sad.

And her face was so close.

Edward cupped her cheek and ran his thumb over her lips, following the motion for a moment before he looked up into her eyes. "Then don't go," he murmured.

Bella stared back at him, her face a mask, and Edward almost pulled away. Before he could, though, she tilted her head up. His body reacted almost without his permission. He kissed her before he could think about what he was doing.

The sweetness from the shakes still lingered on her lips. He draped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer. She cupped her hand around the back of his neck, her fingers playing at the tips of his hair.

What a surreal day. It had begun with such horror. He'd walked into that school alone, reliving the worst day of his life—all the pain and guilt. And yet he'd left with this woman by his side, and here she was in his arms. She was beautiful and real and alive and hurting as much as he was, if not moreso. Whatever this was about—that it felt like she recognized a piece of him no one else had ever been able to understand or if it was just that they were both still alive despite everything they'd lost—it felt right. It felt good.

He didn't want to think about the why's and whether or not this was a good idea. All he knew was he wasn't in the mood to let her go. Not yet. In fact, he only wanted her closer.

Apparently on the same page, Bella shifted so she was straddling him. She began to wiggle and writhe, moving herself over him as their kisses went from sweet to fervent and deep. He moaned into her mouth, and she whimpered in response, the sounds vibrating between them.

Neither of them was looking to savor. They stood, and she sat on the bed, him standing in front of her, head tilted down because he didn't want to stop kissing her yet. They parted only long enough to slip their shirts up and over their heads. She scooted back, and he climbed over her.

"I'm on the pill," she said when they were face to face, both panting. "And I've been tested. I was lucky, but I'm clean. I'll understand if you don't believe me."

Edward kissed a line across her collarbone. "I believe you."

"If you say we don't need anything, I trust you."

It was the most they spoke the whole time. It was as though their bodies had things to say to each other that their mouths couldn't find words for. He kissed her gently, sweetly as she took hold of his shaft and guided him to her. They rocked together, kissing. Her hands trailed over his back, cupped his ass, slid back up and into his hair. She tilted her head back, crying out wordlessly, and he muffled a groan against her neck.

When his thrusts became urgent, she locked her legs around his back, tilting her hips up to meet his. And when they were sated, he pulled her into his arms, and pulled the covers over them.

There in that hotel bed, for those few minutes as they stole soft, sleepy kisses, Edward felt a peace he couldn't explain; a peace he never would have expected to find in this town so full of ghosts.

* * *

 **A/N: So. That happened.**

 **How we doing out there, kiddos?**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: I don't know if any of us need more angst today, but…**

* * *

 _ **~Then-Very Then~**_

Bella clutched her dolly closer when she heard someone come into the room. Two someones. They were talking to each other—laughing about something. She scooched backward, pressing her back against the wall, and moved the clothes that hung down out of her face. She liked the way the clothes felt brushing against her cheeks, but she needed to see the thin patch of light that came in through the closet door.

"So, who is Bella again?" a boy's voice asked. Bella pulled a sweater from the floor of the closet over her head.

"She's Charlie's kid," Leah said. "She's like a year younger than Seth."

"Charlie doesn't have a kid."

"She lived with her mom before, but my mom says her mom is a piece of work."

"What does that mean?" the boy asked, and Bella wondered that too.

"I dunno, but the only time I heard Charlie yell is when he was talking to her on the phone. She's not a good mommy."

Bella furrowed her brow, but she stayed quiet. She didn't know what to think about her mommy. She loved her mommy so much, but she knew there was a reason she was living with her daddy now. And her Daddy's girlfriend, who was nice, and his girlfriend's kids. Seth was okay, but Leah scared her a little.

"That sucks," the boy said.

"Hey. Why is this open?" Leah asked a second before the closet door closed with a loud slam.

Bella screamed. She couldn't help it. She hated the dark.

The door came open again. Bella let the clothes fall back in her face, but it was too late. She yelped as Leah grabbed her by the leg and pulled her out. It didn't hurt, but she knew she shouldn't be in Leah's closet.

Leah narrowed her eyes. "What are you doing?"

Bella just stared. Sometimes, she couldn't find words. Now was one of those times.

"You're scaring her," the boy's voice said.

Bella's eyes darted over to the other figure standing next to Leah. It was a boy as big as she was. Leah was eleven. That was _old._

"She's a pest," Leah said, making faces at Bella.

"She's little. Are you sure she's only a year younger than Seth?"

"Yeah. She's just small. Maybe her mommy didn't feed her enough."

Bella glared now. "She did. I can eat two whole pieces of pizza. All of them. Even the crust."

Leah giggled. "You _can_ talk then."

Bella screwed up her nose and stuck out her tongue. The boy laughed too. "What's your name?" he asked.

"Bella," Bella said, clutching her dolly again and looking down.

"Did you say Bitty?"

Bella furrowed her brow. "Bella," she said again.

"Bitty?"

"Bella!"

The boy laughed, and she realized he was only teasing her. He took her hand. "I'm Edward," he said. Bella let him pull her up onto her feet and into the light.

 _ **~Now~**_

Bella woke with a start, her heart pounding. She blinked, trying to figure out why her room was all wrong and what the hell had her terrified. She jolted when someone screamed right near her ear. It was a low sound, but filled with horror and fear.

Rolling onto her side, Bella remembered where she was, why she wasn't wearing any clothes, and, more importantly, who she was with. Edward lay beside her, curled on his side. In the muted light of early morning, Bella could see his eyes were closed, but the look on his face was agonized.

"Hey," she said, reaching for him tentatively. Her voice was gravelly with sleep.

He cried out again, but his eyes didn't open. He was asleep, she realized. These were sleep terrors. She'd read about them once when she'd brought a man home who said he couldn't stay because of them. It was likely he'd been full of shit, but regardless, it was enough that Bella knew not to be scared about what was happening to Edward. He was fine. Likely his terrors were rooted in trauma. It wasn't pleasant but there wasn't anything really wrong with him.

He whimpered, and the sound made her heart ache. She scrambled, trying to think of what to do. Was she supposed to wake someone in this state or let them ride it out?

When he screamed again, she decided she couldn't leave him in his nightmares anymore. "Hey." She put a hand to his shoulder and gave him a light shake.

"No. No," he moaned.

"Edward?" She shaped her hand to his cheek. Her voice wavered.

After yesterday, she could guess what was happening in his nightmares. Was he back there? In the cafeteria? Was he remembering when the shooting started? The feel of the bullets piercing his skin?

"Edward," she said again, sharper this time. "Wake up. Please, wake up." She stroked his cheek, relieved when he tilted his head into her palm.

"No," he whispered this time. "No!" His eyes came open, wide and sightless. "No."

"You're okay." She brushed a stray tear with the pad of her thumb. "Wake up. You're okay."

"Angie?" he mumbled. He blinked at her and caught her hands. His fingers skimmed along hers as though he wasn't quite sure she was real. "Angie," he said again, his voice breaking. He took her face in his hands and kissed her. It was a rough, desperate kiss.

It was a kiss meant for another woman. A girl, actually. A girl who'd never gotten the chance to grow into a woman. Bella remained passive. He was rough, still half asleep, but he wasn't hurting her.

When he'd gathered Bella close to him, he buried his face in her hair and wept. Bella scratched her fingers through his hair and rubbed his back with her other hand. "Shhh. Shhh," she murmured against his ear.

Minutes went by before his grip on her loosened. He sniffled and pulled back but didn't let her go. He took her face in his hands again and this time, his eyes were clear. He tilted her head up to him, and she closed her eyes as he kissed her. This kiss was much gentler—so tender, Bella's heart ached. She returned his kiss, trailing her fingertips along his side. He was so warm, and she liked the way his body flexed and shivered under her touch.

He littered kisses in a line up her cheek to her ear. "Bella," he whispered, his voice husky.

She hid her smile against his neck. He was there with her. She nipped at his skin, delighting in the gasp it elicited. He growled and Bella yelped as he rolled her onto her back. His kisses grew more fervent, and she could feel his hardness against her leg. She pressed back against him, letting go of conscious thought to be in the moment with Edward.

His fingers teased along the inside of her thighs as he dipped his head to flick his tongue at her nipple. She arched up, ache turning into need. She needed him. "Please, Edward."

He didn't have to be told twice. He kissed his way back up to her lips, hooking an arm under one knee and pushing that leg back. He entered her first with his fingers, two fingers inside her and his thumb pressing slow circles to her clit. She moaned into his mouth, and thrust up to meet him. She reached between his legs, stroking his hard length.

"Ah," she cried when he entered her in one quick thrust, her head thrown back on the pillow.

Time seemed to stand still then. They lay entwined—foreheads bumping. Bella folded her arms around his neck and crossed her legs behind his back. They rocked together, exchanging tiny moans and whimpers, breathing each other's names like they were a language all their own.

What was this? Bella had never moved like this with another person. Her body had never fit so easily against anyone's, and it had never felt like this. Like shelter and comfort. It had never felt like the world reduced to the two of them, and her heart had never felt like this—full and hopeful for something.

Hell, it had been so long since she'd felt hope at all.

Whatever it was, she couldn't seem to get close enough to him. She wanted him deeper inside her. She raised her legs, moving further up his back as his thrusts quickened. "Ahh," she exhaled with a cry as his cock hit a sweet spot inside her. She tangled her fingers in his hair and rolled her hips to meet him. She loved the feel of him, the way his cock—so thick and hot—stretched her and filled her. Her groan as he pulled out of her only to slam all the way to his hilt made her moan draw out into a scream of pure ecstasy.

"Bella." The word was a plea, low and raw near her ear. He captured her hands, twining their fingers together and pinning them above her head. He buried his face at her neck, his mouth open wide over her skin so his groan rumbled in her blood.

She was lost. Her vision went white, and he was all she knew. She felt nothing except the hot pulse of him deep inside her and a pleasure so intense it was almost frightening.

He collapsed on her, heavy and heated. She was smothered, but that wasn't a bad or uncomfortable thing. She scratched her fingertips along his nape. His skin was slick with exertion, as hers was clammy between them. Still, she didn't want him to move. She kept her legs, trembling though they were, locked around him, holding him close to her.

When they'd both caught their breath, Edward pulled out of her and flopped onto his stomach on the bed. Bella shuddered at the loss of contact, but he was still touching her—his arm draped over her mid-section. He turned his head, and when he looked at her, he smiled. It was a soft smile that made Bella's breath catch. She had no words. She rested her hand splayed wide against his back, feeling his heartbeat. He raised his hand to run the backs of his knuckles down her cheek. They both closed their eyes and slept again.

 _ **~0~**_

When she woke, the light was strong in the room. She was also cold. Not freezing, but lacking the body heat next to her that had kept her cozy for hours while she slept. A tiny pebble of dread formed and sat solid in the pit of her stomach.

It loosened somewhat when she heard someone moving around the room. It came back almost instantaneously when she found him. He sat on a chair, bent over to tie his shoes. His hair was damp from a shower. A duffle bag sat open and full on the room's small table.

Bella sat up, clutching the hotel's thin blankets to her chest. "You're leaving."

"Ah…" Edward straightened up, his expression pinched. "It's getting late. I have a flight to catch out of Seattle tonight."

Bella balked. "A flight?"

There was an apology in his eyes as he looked at her. "Yeah. I guess we didn't talk about where I lived." He cleared his throat. "I live in California."

"California?" Bella hated that she sounded like a dumb parrot. And really, she didn't know why it shocked her so much. She'd already known he didn't live in Forks.

He brought her clothes and explained that there'd been specialists in California who helped him with his recovery, and his whole family had just stayed.

"They wanted to come with me to Forks, but I wouldn't let them," he said, sitting beside her on the bed. "So they came as far as Seattle with me. We were supposed to have today to decompress." He offered her a smile. "But then I met you."

In spite of herself, Bella smirked. "So you ditched your family just to get some?" She stood, dressed now, and looked around for her jacket. "And now you have to go."

"Bella—"

"You don't have to say anything. It's the same reason funeral sex is a thing, right?" She shuddered. "Walking into that school was like walking through the valley of the shadow of death or something. You're alive. I'm alive, and we both lost so much there. We acted on it. That's all."

She wasn't naive. Regardless that it had been her name he'd chanted, he probably still wished he was with Angela. That was normal too. They were, after all, almost complete strangers. Yes, she had known him in her first life, but he'd never been hers. Not her friend nor anything else. He'd always been around, but she hadn't. Not with her mother and father fighting for custody for a solid five years, from when she was six to when she was eleven, before she could settle permanently—theoretically—with her father. But that was a whole other life regardless.

"Bella—" he tried again, but for some reason, she wasn't in the mood for platitudes.

"It's fine." She paused a second before she turned around with a bright smile. "There have been a couple of walks of shame I regretted the next morning. This isn't going to be one of them."

A look she couldn't decipher flitted across Edward's face, but he only nodded slowly. "Same. Me either," he said, his tone genuine. He cupped her cheek and kissed her sweetly, lingering a moment and making Bella's head swim a bit. "I'll take you home. No walk of shame here."

It was, as all drives were in Forks, a short drive. When they got to her house, Bella tried to get out of the car quickly. Edward reached over and took her hand. She turned back, willing the strange, dark emotion that seemed to grow bigger the closer they got to her house not to show in her eyes. The seed of dread that had been born when she woke up in a cold bed was a boulder now.

Edward studied her with an intensity that should have made her squirm. Instead, it held her spellbound. He cupped her cheek and leaned in, taking one more kiss. It was a thorough kiss—long and good. It was the kind of kiss that could have been a promise or a vow, but of what? This is where they started and where they ended.

When the kiss broke, Bella kept her eyes closed for an extra few seconds before she looked at him. He stroked his thumb over her cheek. "Yesterday could have been the second worst day of my life, but instead, I found you."

Bella's heart skipped a beat, and she felt her cheeks heat. A blush? She was no stranger to the pretty words men could throw, but they usually came before they got her into bed, not after. And she didn't fall for pretty words anyway.

Pretty boys with gorgeous green eyes on the other hand…

"Don't be a stranger, okay?" Edward said. They'd exchanged social media information already.

Bella flashed a grin. "Can't be stranger than I already am. Have a safe drive."

His eyes again swept over her face as though he was conflicted about something. He sighed. "Goodbye, Bitty."

He waited until she got up the steps and opened the door before he started the car again. Of course. Perfect gentleman. She smiled again and waved, clutching the door with her other hand. As he began to pull away, something cold and desperate crawled along Bella's skin. She pressed her tongue against the roof of her mouth, terrified for one awful second that she was going to burst into tears.

 _Don't leave me. Don't leave me here all alone._

Bella's throat was tight as she stepped inside her house so full of ghosts. The wave of loneliness that hit her then bowed her shoulders. She leaned back against the door.

Nothing had changed. Nothing at all had changed. She'd always been alone here. Edward's visit had been a respite, but he was just one more ghost. He'd gone back to his own realm now. The only difference between him and the rest of them was that she'd get to watch his life unfold on Facebook.

Bella took a deep breath in and let it out again.

Nothing at all had changed.

 _ **~0~**_

Bella let another day pass, then another and another. It was Christmas Eve before she went back to Forks High. She still had a job to do. Pulling into the parking lot, she glared at the school, flexing her finger around the steering wheel. A random memory came to the forefront. Leah had been a freshman. Bella and Seth were still in elementary school—him in sixth grade, she in fifth. Leah was getting some kind of award, but Bella and Seth had been hyper that day. Charlie told them they could cool their jets in the parking lot if they couldn't behave.

She and Seth had bickered more often than not that last year of his life. Bella tried not to regret it—they'd both been children—but it was just that much more heartache to bear. Who knew how their lives would have progressed? Possibly, maybe even likely, all three of the quasi-siblings would have been close by now. She might have been spending Christmas—a few days away—with them and whomever they'd married. Maybe she'd have a few nieces and nephews by now.

"Get a grip," she muttered to herself. They were all dead and gone—her father and her step-siblings. Sue was kind to her, but Bella knew it hurt her stepmother too much to see her. Too much loss.

She often wondered if Sue secretly wished it was Bella who'd died that day instead of her own children. Bella could understand that. Hell, sometimes Bella thought it herself. What had she done with her life that was worth saving?

Right now, though, a school full of kids was depending on her to fix the heater so they wouldn't freeze to death when classes resumed. It was a simple task, and she could do it.

Even if it did feel like she was walking on graves. Even if she felt as though Seth, Leah, and her father were watching her from around every corner.

* * *

 **A/N: I heart you all. Thank you.**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Hello, my doves! Thank you for being oh so patient with me on this one. No time to waste.**

* * *

The whole drive back to Seattle felt awful. Edward would have thought he'd be happy to leave Forks. And he was, for the most part. There was nothing but misery there. Misery and shattered memories.

And a sad, beautiful woman, heartbreakingly alone.

Edward was no soldier, but he thought he understood at least a fraction of the gravity of leaving a man behind. Stepping into Forks High had been like stepping on a battlefield. Though it had been so many years since the school had seen anything more violent than a fist fight, Edward felt the violence in his heart. He'd felt the fear crawl on his skin like a physical entity. Leaving Bella in the middle of that to suffer alone felt like leaving her in enemy territory with bullets flying. It felt like he was leaving her there to die.

Surely, that was a melodramatic thought, though. Just because the idea of living in Forks made him want to curl up in a ball and cry didn't mean Bella wasn't made of sterner stuff. Obviously, she was. She was stronger than he was. That she was living and functioning in Forks was proof of that. True, it wasn't as though she lived in the school, but living in the house was almost worse.

What was it like to live some place that had once held such happiness and now held nothing but empty rooms? Though, maybe it hadn't been so happy for her? Edward remembered how often she looked sad when they were kids. A sad, quiet little girl.

He'd liked to make her smile back then. It annoyed Leah—that Edward would often stop and tease her just until she smiled. Shy, little-girl smiles that had turned into gorgeous, grown-woman grins. He'd liked earning her smiles again.

Because he had pushed leaving until the absolute last second, by the time he got back to Seattle, he was in a rush. His family was already at the airport. There was a flurry of luggage and tickets and security.

Emmett plopped down in the seat beside him once they were on the plane. "So," he said by way of greeting.

Edward glanced at him. "So."

"How's Bitty?"

Despite the fact he'd known damn well it was going to come up—he'd known when Emmett sat down exactly what he'd want to talk about—Edward's lips twitched. That was all it took. His brother's eyes lit up. He let out a loud guffaw and clapped his hands.

"Emmett," Edward said through clenched teeth. People were staring. Their mother looked over her shoulder with concern. Edward made an effort to smile at her reassuringly.

"It's weird," Emmett said, still chuckling. "The Bitty I remember was a kid. Like a little kid."

"You didn't see her that often. You'd left before the whole custody mess between her parents was settled."

"So how is she?"

Edward clenched his hands in fists. "Don't be a pig."

"Whoa." Emmett grinned and shook his head. "I mean how is she doing." He laughed. "Wow, really? It went that far?"

Edward banged his head against the back of his seat. It was a good thing this was a short flight.

 _ **~0~**_

The days after Forks were hard. Edward spent most of the time in a haze. It was one of the reasons he'd agreed to stay with his parents through the New Year while he decided if he wanted to go to this memorial.

His parents were, as always, wonderful. When he spaced out, his mother would come sit by him, holding him to her breast like he was a little boy again, stroking his hair while he found his way back. His father would put a hot drink in his hands. When he woke, screaming, from nightmares, they were there to soothe him or sit with him into the small hours when he couldn't bear to sleep again.

Emmett dropped by often and yabbered at Edward until he got a response. Emmett was always good for a distraction.

His family, as always, was there for him.

 _ **~Then~**_

He was...aware.

First, there was a terrible feeling in his throat, like he wanted to choke but couldn't. He couldn't breathe, and it hurt—like a cat had clawed the inside of his throat and air was leaking out of the wounds before it could reach his lungs.

"Edward? Baby? Don't fight. Edward, please, calm down. The tube is helping you breathe."

He knew pain, and panic and then nothing at all.

Confusion. His brain was burdened. Like each individual thought was a load too heavy to be lifted, too heavy to fly up through his consciousness. There were a lot of thoughts. A lot, but he couldn't _hear_ any of them. He could just feel them weighing on his head.

It was a relief when unconsciousness overwhelmed everything like a blanket thrown over his head on a too-bright morning.

Sound.

He could hear his parents murmuring somewhere. Nearer to him, his sister chatted. She just chatted, as though nothing was strange. As though there wasn't so much pain. As though he shouldn't be so confused.

Edward opened his eyes, but the light was too bright, and when he closed them again, he slept.

When he woke again, panicked, confused, and in pain, sleep didn't come for him. He remained stationary, no more floating, and awareness returned with a vengeance. He was aware that his body didn't work—not the way he wanted it to. He was aware that every movement sent agony through his bloodstream. He was aware of the way his frightened whimper scratched against the inside of his sore throat. He coughed, and that… Well, that was a bad idea.

"Hey. There you are. Calm down. Just calm down. We're right here." His father's voice.

It was his mother's gentle hands on his shoulders. "It's okay, Edward. Just breathe. You're fine. You're just fine."

The more with-it Edward was, the more he understood that his mother was lying. He wasn't fine. He was anything but fine. He was lethargic as hell, hurting, and he didn't know why.

With some effort, he was able to concentrate enough to bring his parents into focus. He blinked away the haze. He couldn't speak. His tongue was too heavy and his mouth too dry and his throat too scratched up. So he looked at them. He stared until they saw the questions in his eyes.

It was disconcerting to see his father here in a hospital room but without his coat, and without his calm, practiced beside demeanor. His hand shook as he stroked Edward's hair, and his eyes were red, his face haggard. "You're going to be okay. That's the most important thing. You're okay, and you're safe."

His mother squeezed his fingers—a tight but gentle pressure. "We're all right here for you."

All of them.

Edward's eyes flicked to his brother and sister, but they were the only others in the room. He looked back to his terrible confusion ebbed, and in its wake memories rushed in like water filling the space. He remembered the loud bangs. The screaming. The blood.

Angela's face.

With what little strength he had, he squeezed his mother's fingers. He stared at his father. His parents exchanged a glance filled with so much pain.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart." His mother's voice broke. "That boy—" She squeezed her eyes shut, her features contorted with rage.

His father cupped his cheek. "They're gone, Edward," he whispered, eyes full of tears that didn't fall. "Mike, Seth, Leah." He winced. "And Angela."

Edward blinked. Again, he was aware. Just aware. Aware of the words as they sunk into his brain, and aware of what they meant.

Aware he was alone. Loneliness hit him so heavy it was like the weight of Thor's hammer thrown at his chest, dragging him down into the depths, and pinning him at the bottom of a pitch black ocean to drown.

 **~Now~**

That sense of loneliness had been profound. Even the memory of it, knowing there was a crater in his heart where his friend, _all_ his friends, had been, was devastating. He'd been so alone.

Except, he hadn't been alone. He'd never been alone. Even in the darkness, as he'd struggled to find consciousness in the hospital, his family had been there with him. Yes, he'd drowned, but never alone.

It was Christmas Eve, and Edward was in the back seat of his parents' van, on the way to the airport to pick up his sister. His parents had long since stopped trying to engage him in conversation. His head was too noisy, and his concentration—what little of it he could maintain—was on his phone. He'd sent Bella a message on Facebook the day before. It was still unread.

His Facebook wall was full of pictures from his friends and acquaintances wishing everyone safe travels. They were with family, traveling.

Bella hadn't posted a Facebook update in months. No plans for her.

The idea had plagued him since he got back to California three days before. Did she have anyone to celebrate with? Surely, her mother…

A cold stone settled deep in Edward's gut. He had the most awful feeling Bella was alone. After all, she hadn't had family or friends to get her through the last ten years. Was there anyone who cared that she was alone on Christmas Eve?

Alone in Forks in a haunted house.

By the time they got to John Wayne Airport, Edward felt like he was going out of his skin. He couldn't let it go. The idea she was alone on Christmas, though he didn't know that for certain, was driving him to distraction.

Alice appeared at the top of the escalator, grinning and waving at them as she descended beside a tall, good-looking blond man Edward took to be the new boyfriend she was bringing home to meet them. By then, Edward knew what he was going to do. He just needed to apologize to Alice for being a freak. He was overreacting. Just because Bella wasn't on social media as much as the rest of the world didn't mean she needed him. She didn't need him. They were strangers.

As soon as his sister turned away from their parents to him, he pulled her into a tight hug. "I need to leave. I'm sorry."

 _ **~0~**_

"This is crazy," Edward said to himself for the billionth time.

He'd had plenty of time to second guess what he was doing. Finding a flight to Seattle on Christmas Eve was next to impossible. Then there was the long, long, long drive to Forks. The highways in the Pacific Northwest weren't conducive to a California driver's mentality. The speed limit was way too low, especially given that there were so few people on the road.

Well, maybe that wasn't a good idea. When night fell in the Hoh Rainforest, it fell hard. He'd forgotten just how dark the roads around Forks could be.

It was nine before he got into town. He still hadn't figured out what the hell he was going to say. "This is crazy," he muttered as he turned down her street.

He pulled up in front of her house and laughed at himself. There wasn't a single light on. Her car wasn't in the drive either. She wasn't home.

Of course she wasn't. She had something to do on Christmas Eve—somewhere to go.

Shaking his head at his own stupidity, Edward started his car again. He was sad—he really had wanted to see Bella again—but relieved at the same time. She wasn't alone, and that was all that mattered.

Edward had reserved a room during his flight. Nothing left but to find food and head to his temporary home to spend Christmas Eve alone. Ah, how ironic.

The town was dead as he drove around. Of course. Nothing was open in the tiny town. He had an amused thought and headed toward the outskirts. Sure enough, the bar was open. There was an off chance they'd have something to eat. If not, he'd have to make do with whatever was in the vending machines at the hotel.

Edward frowned as he pulled into the parking lot. Then, he closed his eyes and rested his head on the steering wheel a moment.

Bella's truck was one of three others in the parking lot. Not alone, then, but probably not far from it.

He got out of the truck and went inside. The bartender looked up in surprise; then he smirked. "Hey there, stranger. Here to escape your annoying, backwoods relatives?"

"What?" Edward asked, distracted. He'd already spotted Bella. She was the only one perched at the bar itself, though there were two old men at a table in the corner.

"Just a guess." He shrugged. "What can I get you?"

Edward sat down next to Bella. She looked up with bleary eyes, did a double take, and swayed on her barstool. She looked back to her half-drunk glasses and the two beside it, squinting as though trying to determine just how much she'd drunk. He smiled in spite of himself. "I'm actually here."

"Oh," she said." That's, uh…" She laughed. "I'm not sure what that is."

Edward looked to the bartender. "Got anything to eat?"

The man looked amused. "I have a bag of pizza rolls in the fridge," he said dryly. "You know Bella?"

Fucking Forks. There was nothing to do in this town but gossip. "I'm hoping I'm her ride." Edward dug out his wallet and took out a twenty. "For your pizza rolls. Please." He glanced at Bella. "To go, maybe?"

Her lips quirked up and she ducked her head, studying the glass in her hand. She nodded. "Yeah. To go." She threw back the rest of her drink.

The bartender gave him a long look, grunted, and said, "I'll be right back, then."

When he was gone, Bella laughed. "What?" he asked.

"It's just funny." She cradled her now empty glass in her hands, playing with it as she spoke. "If I was almost anywhere else and I wanted to go home with someone, it wouldn't be a problem. But not here. Even if my choices weren't limited to Grumpier Old Men"—she nodded surreptitiously at the table in the corner— "or the married bartender, it's not like word doesn't get around. That's more bullshit than I want to put up with." She turned her head to look at him. She smiled, but there was so much pain in her eyes. "Then you show up out of nowhere. The sex was great, but worth that kind of a drive? I should be flattered."

He studied her a beat. "Not that it wasn't great, but I'm not here for sex, Bella."

Confusion flickered across her face. "Then what?"

"For you."

She stared and blinked.

"I didn't want you to be alone on Christmas."

"Oh," she said again, her voice soft. "I—"

But whatever she was going to say was cut off as the bartender came back. He tossed a bag of frozen pizza rolls on the bar. He raised a challenging eyebrow. Edward just smiled. "Thanks," he said, sliding off the barstool. He looked to Bella. "Can I get your bill?"

"No," she said quickly, already fishing through her purse. Her laugh this time was bitter. "I got off work at four and came here. It's a big bill." She slapped down a credit card and looked at the bartender. "I'll pick it up tomorrow."

"The day after."

"Right. Christmas." Bella put her feet on the floor, but she was unsteady enough that she had to lean on the bar for balance as she stood. Edward offered her a hand. She stared a beat before she took it. Her fingers felt good in his—warm and soft. She stumbled once more, trying to get her legs to work. "Sorry," she muttered.

"If you've been drinking since four, I'm surprised you're still conscious."

She snorted, walking forward with an unsteady but upright gait. "Not my first rodeo, cowboy. I wasn't trying to get trashed. I just didn't want to think for a while." She ducked her head. "I was working at the school today."

A chill went down Edward's spine. "Shit," he said under his breath. "I forgot you had to go back."

"Yeah, well." She shrugged. "I'm sure it won't be the last time."

It was pure instinct for Edward to pull Bella to him, tucking her under his arm as they stepped out into the bitter cold. She came willingly, ducking against him for the short walk to his rental car. He opened the door and hurried around to his side after she'd gotten in.

"Of course I'll take you home if you want to go—"

Bella shook her head before he could finish his sentence. "I don't want to go home."

"I booked a hotel room, if that's okay. We can hang out. Eat this fancy, pizza roll dinner." He started the car.

"That's...Yeah, that'd be great." She wrapped her arms around herself. "Edward, seriously. What are you doing here?"

"I already told you." He put his arm across the back of her seat, looking over his shoulder as he backed out. "I didn't want you to spend Christmas alone."

"But, your family."

"They'll survive."

That seemed to be enough conversation for her at the moment. Anyway, it only took another minute to get to the Olympic Suites Inn. Bella stayed in the car with the engine on while Edward checked in.

By the time he got back, something had changed. Her shoulders were slumped, all trace of even the slightest bravado gone. The look in her eyes was unfocused, though not in the drunken way. Well, not only in the drunken way. She looked like maybe she was lost in memories.

He'd gotten a room with two double beds, not wanting to assume. Bella sat down on the one nearest to the door, chafing her arms and staring forward with unseeing eyes. Impulsively, Edward reached out, pushing a lock of hair out of her face. She shuddered and closed her eyes, tilting her head into his touch.

"Do you want to eat?" he asked quietly. There'd been a microwave in the lobby where he could warm up their pathetic dinner.

"No," she said in a whisper. "I'm just...tired."

He knelt in front of her, and she opened her eyes. Keeping his gaze locked on hers, he untied her shoelaces. He couldn't read the expression on her face as she reached out to cup his cheek. It was such a tender touch Edward's heart ached.

When he'd pulled her shoes off, he stood. "Come on," he said, pulling her to her feet. He pulled back the blankets, and she laid down.

Before he could tuck her in, she took his hand. She didn't speak, just looked at him, vulnerable and wanting. He didn't have to ask what she needed. He toed off his shoes and let her tug him down with her onto the bed. She curled up against him, her head against his chest. He splayed a hand wide on her back, feeling her uneven breaths.

For the first time in three days, Edward felt a modicum of peace. If not peace, it was at least a lot less awful. Holding her in his arms was the only thing right when so much else felt so wrong.

"Thank you," Bella whispered.

Edward didn't answer. Instead, he pressed a long kiss to her crown. Then, more exhausted than he'd realized, he fell asleep.

* * *

 **A/N: Mucho hugs all around.**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Thanks for waiting! Let's go.**

* * *

Bella woke up with an all too familiar taste of cottony awful in her mouth. No hangover, but she'd known what she was doing the night before.

She heard a soft exhale, felt hot breath prickle the back of her neck. She winced, her eyes still closed. Fuck, what had she done last night?

Her eyes flew open, and she blinked in the soft light of the early morning. Her memories painted a pretty vivid picture of who was in the bed behind her, supported by the fact she was still fully clothed, jeans and all. All signs pointed to the fact it was Edward Cullen behind her, his hand resting lightly on her hip.

But that had to be impossible. It was Christmas. Edward had a life in California, a family who loved him. What in all hells would he be doing here in Forks with her? That had to have been a fantasy. She was so desperate to not be in her life last night, facing the prospect of another Christmas alone after having to be back in the school where her family died. It made sense that she'd made up a totally implausible scenario.

Edward, or whomever it was, sighed in his sleep. Then, his tummy rumbled. Loudly. Loud enough that Bella laughed. She rolled over and smiled. It was Edward. Not a drunken fantasy then.

"Hum?" he murmured, sounding adorably perplexed. "What?"

His stomach growled, and Bella giggled harder. "I'm sorry. Oh, Edward." She sat up, pulling her knees close to her chest. She rested one hand on his stomach, feeling the vibration. "How long has it been since you've eaten?"

"Ummm. I can't remember if I ate breakfast." He scratched at his chest, brushing his fingers against hers. "Or the snack on the plane. I think I left it in the pocket."

That cured Bella of her giggles. She stared at him. "Edward. You didn't even eat breakfast?"

He closed his eyes, still sleepy. "I had other things on my mind."

"You tried to get dinner last night. The pizza rolls." She looked over to the room's small table where the sad bag of pizza rolls sat in a small puddle.

"That was for you." He opened his eyes and smiled at her. "I didn't know how drunk you were."

"I was fine." Bella got up.

"Where are you going?" Edward said, coming fully awake.

"To brush my teeth. We need to feed you."

He caught her hand. "I'm okay. It's not even morning yet. Not really."

"Well then, I need to brush my teeth because something died in my mouth."

He squinted at her. "Acceptable. You can use my toothbrush." He let go of her hand and flopped back down, hand thrown over his eyes. His breath evened out almost instantly.

She hadn't thought of that—that she was in his hotel room without anything but the clothes on her back. In the bathroom, she found a small bag proclaiming it was from Orange County. The toothbrush and toothpaste—and the bag, more than likely—had been bought at the airport.

He'd been distracted; he'd told her not five minutes before. So distracted he hadn't eaten anything. So distracted he hadn't packed before he came here.

Bella had no idea what to make of what was going on here. Was it creepy? Should she be scared about his motives? It was crazy; she knew that much.

Back in the hotel room, she hesitated. Edward was definitely asleep again, and she didn't know the protocol here. What she most wanted to do was climb back into bed with him, but that seemed odd. Far too familiar, as though they were a couple on vacation instead of whatever they were supposed to be.

She sat on the room's second bed, trying to sort herself out.

"You look a little spooked." Edward's gravelly voice startled her. Bella's head snapped up, and she found him watching her with hooded eyes. "Are you thinking I'm a creepy stalker?"

"No," she said too quickly. The thought _had_ crossed her mind. How the hell had he known where she was last night for instance, but that felt wrong too. "I just can't figure out why you'd be here."

"I told you—"

"You said you didn't want me to be alone. I remember." She wrung her hands. "I get feeling sorry for people, you know? You hear a sad story, you feel a pang, but people don't get on a plane so fast they don't even pack a bag. That's…" She ducked her head. "A lot of people are alone at Christmas."

He didn't answer right away. When he did, his voice was soft. "You know...the only place I really feel safe is with my family. I live my life. I work. I go places, but there's always this knowledge at the back of my mind." The look in his eyes was troubled now, and he swallowed hard. "I never really noticed Eric Yorkie. Never said more than a few words to him my whole life, but he hated me. He hated me enough to plan my murder. Not because we'd had a fight or I'd done something wrong, but because I had the audacity to like the same girl he liked.

"That's all it took for him to want me dead, so I have to wonder. My coworkers, the people I pass in the street. I always have to wonder if they have a reason. Or hell, who needs a reason? DJ Garrett was just in the way. That's all he ever did to Yorkie."

Edward tilted his head, looking at her straight on. "But I have a safe space with my family. Maybe I'm wrong. I really hope I'm wrong. But I couldn't stop thinking that you didn't have a safe space."

Bella shivered, suddenly too aware of the cold air. She wrapped her arms around her shoulders and tried to dislodge the lump in her throat.

Edward extended a hand toward her. "It's warmer in here," he said simply.

She stared at his hand for a beat, almost afraid. Not because she was scared of him, but because she felt too vulnerable. His simple words had exposed a raw wound Bella worked hard never to acknowledge.

Safety. She couldn't even remember what that felt like. And for most of her life, that had been fine. She'd grown up knowing she had to take care of herself. If she tasted safety, comfort, warmth, it meant she'd have something to lose when he went back home again.

In a moment of weakness, she took his hand anyway. She climbed back into bed and let him settle the blanket up to her shoulder. He didn't try to cuddle, instead rolling onto his side with a decent amount of distance between them.

Bella curled onto her side and folded her hands under her cheek to keep from reaching out and touching his face. It felt natural to do so, but it was such an intimate gesture in reality. It was nice to wake up next to someone like this, especially today. She couldn't remember the last time she'd woken warm and happy on Christmas Day.

"What would you be doing right this minute if you weren't a crazy person?" she asked.

"You mean if I was with my family for Christmas?" He blinked sleepy eyes, a smile playing at his lips. "Right this minute? Given that it's barely six in the morning and I'm not five years old, I'd probably still be asleep." He fixed her with a mock-stern look.

"Hey, you were the one who woke me up." Bella brushed her fingertips over his stomach. "Hiding a monster in here."

Chuckling, he caught her hand by the the wrist. He twined their fingers together. "Actually, we do all our gift-giving on Christmas Eve anyway. Though my mom still stuffs stockings for us kids to wake up to on Christmas morning. It's a lazy day. Half the time, we never change out of pajamas. We make breakfast together and spend the day playing games or doing a puzzle as a family."

Bella sighed. "That sounds nice." No one ever really appreciated Christmas when they were kids. Presents were great and all, but Bella wished she'd taken time to remember the little things. She wished she remembered just being together, surrounded by _her_ people. People who loved her, even if they did have their differences.

They lapsed into a silence then that was easier than it should have been. Edward played with her fingers, and she wondered, again, what the hell was going on here.

It would have been easy to segue into familiar territory. She even had the line ready. _Well, since you're far away from home on Christmas, I have something you can unwrap._ It wouldn't exactly be a chore. Edward was gorgeous and good with his hands, among other things.

Her experience with men had always been an equal exchange. She liked sex, not only because it felt good and was a hell of a stress reliever, but because it had the added benefit of concentrating the world. There was a sense of control in the simplicity of the act. The rest of her life was a complicated mess, but from beginning to end, sex was an easy, positive experience. She liked how she felt when someone devoured her with their eyes. She liked hands on her and heated kisses.

Not just about receiving, she liked giving too. There was a personal satisfaction in being the source of someone's pleasure, at being able to make someone feel good. One night, one thing gone right.

Even her one relationship had been equal. Bella's life hadn't given her the benefit of naiveté. James wasn't ever going to last. They were two fucked-up people who'd needed one steady thing, even if it wasn't a particularly good thing.

Whatever was happening here with Edward wasn't about give and take. Even that first night hadn't been about that. These were uncharted waters.

Still, despite her sense of unease, Bella also felt a rush of warmth as she gave in to temptation. She brushed her fingertip down the bridge of his nose, watching the path. "I should let you sleep."

"Are you kidding me? I'm starving to death," he said, teasing her. As if on cue, his stomach rumbled. "See?"

Bella grinned, laughing under her breath. "Fair enough." She sat up again. "Come on. Brush your teeth, and we can go to my house. I'll make you breakfast."

"You don't have to do that."

"Yes, I do. It's Christmas Day. You think anything's open?"

"Oh. Good point." Edward sat up, smiling sheepishly.

 _ **~0~**_

The empty house was still oppressive with Edward there, but bearable now. The weight was manageable shared by two.

As promised, Bella cooked a breakfast of french toast. She went the extra mile in the name of the season, sprinkling sugar and cinnamon in with the egg mixture.

They'd decided on watching Christmas movies on TV when Edward's family called. He excused himself to talk to them while Bella fidgeted on the couch.

When he came back, he didn't look upset. Still, Bella bit the inside of her cheek as he sat down beside her. "Do they hate me for taking you away?" she asked, only half-joking.

He arched an eyebrow. "That was my choice, and they understand."

Bella sighed. "Your family is pretty great, aren't they?"

"Yeah. I can't argue with that one."

He hesitated a moment and then lifted his arm. To her surprise, Bella blushed. The movement was so innocent, it made her feel shy. She ducked her head, hiding her reaction, and curled up against his side.

This was nice. It had all been surprisingly nice. For a few minutes, she indulged in an odd, sweet fantasy. She dreamed for a moment that her family hadn't died. That the house wasn't so quiet, and they were only gathered in another room. That one day, long after he'd grown up and he and his high school sweetheart had drifted apart, Leah's best friend had shown up at the house at the same time Bella was there. That maybe, now that she, too, was grown and no longer a pesky child, she and Edward had hit it off. That he was here on Christmas Day because he was hers—an easy, mundane love story in an easy, sedate life.

"Bella?" Edward's voice drew her out of idyllic fantasy.

"Hmm?"

He swallowed hard, and that caught Bella's attention. She raised her head. He was staring straight forward, his brows knitted. "What is it?" she asked, her hand on his knee.

With a grunt of dissatisfaction, Edward clicked the mute button on the TV. He shifted, angling his body so he was looking at her head on. "There's this idea I've been thinking about." The furrow between his brows got only deeper, and he pressed his lips together into a tight line. "I've been trying to figure out a way to say this that doesn't sound crazy, but no luck so far. If you'll just bear with me, okay?"

Now, it was Bella furrowing her eyebrows. She crossed her arms over her chest. "Okay."

"Okay." He took a deep breath and let it out. Then, his eyes flicked up to meet hers. "I think you should come to California."

Bella blinked, waiting for those words to make sense. "What?"

"I know that ultimately how you live your life isn't any of my business. I _know_ that, but I just don't see how this is going to work out."

"How what's going to work out?" Bella was perplexed and defensive.

"You living here in Forks." He ran a restless hand through his hair. "It's not just that this town reeks of death. On its best day, there's nothing for you here in Forks. You were never going to be the type of girl who stayed here. You were bigger than this place."

Bella stood up, angry, though she didn't quite know why. "What do you know about what type of girl I was?"

His eyes followed her though he remained on the couch, still as a statue. "It doesn't take much to be bigger than a place like this, Bella. That's not an insult. This place is too small and too cut off from everything else to hold much for anyone. If I'm wrong, tell me your endgame. Where do you see yourself in ten years? Still here?"

Bella laughed, the sound bitter. "How the hell should I know? I don't have the benefit of a ten-year plan."

"Exactly. And you're never going to get to that point here."

"Who the hell do you think you are?"

Edward raised his hands in a placating gesture, and then ran them through his hair again. "Fuck. I told you this didn't sound any better in my head." He let out a huff and then looked at her again. "Look, you hate this place as much as I do. Worse than hating it, it's a drain, Bella. It has to be."

He cut his eyes away, his voice gone tight, as though he was trying to control his emotion. "Life's been hard since then. For me, I mean. There are times I barely feel human. The only reason I'm anywhere is because I had my family, because they've always been there for me, and because I've been far, far away from here.

"Even thinking of you alone in this town, in this house, makes my throat close up like I'm drowning." As if in emphasis, he rubbed his neck. Bella turned away, feeling the only too familiar emotion creep up her spine. It was like the walls were closing in, and she hated that he saw it.

She heard his soft footsteps as he stood and walked to her. Still, when he pressed a hand to the small of her back, she sucked in a breath. "Bella," he said, his voice so soft. "I think you're amazing. You're so much stronger than I could ever be. You've made it through the last ten years in one piece by yourself. A little bedraggled maybe, but you're here. You didn't let it beat you. But no one can be that strong forever."

"And what the hell is waiting for me in California, huh?" She whirled, glaring at him. "You?"

"Yes." His answer was instantaneous and firm.

She stared at him. "Why?" she demanded. What the hell did he expect out of that deal?

"Because everyone needs a support system. I want to be that for you. A friend. Someone who understands all this shit." He gestured around them. "And not only me. My parents, my family, they all remembered you, Bella. You said it yourself; they're great. They really are, and your dad was one of my dad's best friends. My parents have cared about you even before the shooting. I remember how worried they'd get when your dad was having trouble with your mom. With custody." He raised a tentative hand, and when she didn't flinch away, he cupped her cheek. "All I'm saying is that you don't have to be alone. Come to California, and I'll help you. We all will."

Bella swayed in place, teetering on the edge of relief. She shook her head hard and turned away from him, pacing a few feet forward. "Run again," she said, her voice dripping acid. "That's what you want me to do. I've been running my whole fucking life. That's why I'm here, because I had to stop. Running doesn't work."

"It's not running."

"Call it what you want." She turned to glare at him. "You're asking me to jump without looking. Again. Because that's what I do. I take the first way out, because wherever I land is never good enough. And every time. _Every time_ , I end up with less." She shook her head hard again, furious that her eyes were wet with tears. "I have nothing left. Don't you get that?"

She turned away again, wrapping her arms around her head. She felt flayed—raw and wretched and stripped to the bone in front of him, every veneer of strength shattered on the floor. For a moment, she hated him for doing this to her. Hated him for the choice and the hope that welled in her.

He stepped to her again, and Bella squeezed her eyes shut. She didn't think she could stand his touch right then. As though he heard her thoughts, he stopped short so she could feel the warmth of his body, but he wasn't touching her at all.

"I am asking you to leap," he said, his voice quiet and close to her ear. "But not without looking. I know it must feel like a reckless thing to consider. That's what your life's taught you, but it isn't."

"How do you figure? This house is paid off. I know what the cost of living is in California. Even if I could find a job doing a little work here and there, fixing things, it's not going to be enough to keep a roof over my head. Whatever profit I make from selling this place will be eaten up."

"I have an extra room." Edward hurried on before she could say anything. "Or if that's too uncomfortable, my mother works on a lot of old houses for people looking to flip them. I'm pretty sure she could arrange to let you stay in one for the cost of you fixing what needs to be fixed. Either way, we can figure out a way for you to live rent free until you figure something more permanent out."

"I live rent free here," she muttered under her breath. "Without owing anyone anything."

"It's not a debt. Friends, Bella. A support system. It's no more or less than what a family would do for you."

She scoffed again, though more out of habit this time. "You think your family would appreciate you speaking for them?"

"They'd be fine with it in this case. I know my family." He sighed. "Look, why don't we see if we can go back to watching the movie for now? It's a lot to think about, and you don't have to make a decision tonight."

Bella didn't move. She was aware of the sharp rise and fall of her shoulders with each breath. She was aware of the feeling that twisted in her chest—that needy, lonely feeling that she'd beat back with everything she had whenever it reared its ugly head. She wanted to believe. She wanted it desperately.

He put a hand to her shoulder and squeezed, massaging gently. Bella's heart twisted. She opened her mouth to scream at him to get the hell out of her house. She needed to think, and she couldn't think when he was there, when his crazy ass ideas were screaming in her head. She turned around to yell at him.

Instead of yelling, she launched herself at him. She threw her arms around his neck and buried her face against his chest. She breathed in quick, staccato breaths, not crying, just needing an anchor. She clung.

He wrapped his arms tightly around her, cupping one hand to her back and the other against her head. "I have you," he murmured against her ear. "I promise."

* * *

 **A/N: So many thanks to Iris, Mina, Eleanor, Betsy, Packeh, and Krystal. They're really so patient with me.**

 **Sooooooooo. Hi!**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Super short update. Sorry about that!**

* * *

A lot of the panic attacks Edward suffered were loud and terrifying. He hated fireworks. The loud popping noise sent him back to the cafeteria if he wasn't prepared. A stranger's angry shout had gotten him a few times. People being angry with him in general made his throat close and his flight reflex kick in.

Other attacks were slow moving; scary in a whole other way.

This one started with an intense feeling of discomfort creeping over his body. It made his skin crawl, and he kept rubbing at the back of his neck. He was restless, pacing in his office at work, unable to settle down.

By that evening, the white noise in his head had reached a fever pitch. The volume was turned so far up, he couldn't think around it. It hummed between his ears.

It was a good thing he'd invited his parents over for dinner. When he didn't answer the door, they used their key. By then, Edward was on the floor in his living room, sitting with his back against the sofa. His head was bowed, and he was clenching and unclenching his hands at his sides. He didn't immediately respond to his mother calling his name.

His parents sat on either side of him, their arms around him. They spoke to him in gentle tones, telling him what was happening to his body as a means of helping his mind get a grip. At first, they sounded so far away, their voices warped. Gradually, though, he came back to himself. When he did, he slumped, leaning heavily against his father's side. He closed his eyes, letting his father hold him and his mother stroke his hair.

"Do you know what brought that one on?" Carlisle asked after a while.

Edward groaned. "Yeah. I probably should have figured it out before it happened. I, uh…" He sighed. "I want to go back to Forks. For that thing next week."

He didn't have to have his eyes open to know his parents were looking at each other over his head. "You said you hated being back in the school," his mother said carefully.

Edward didn't say anything. His parents were too intuitive for his own good.

"Does this have something to do with Bella?" Carlisle asked.

Edward raised his head. He swiped at the back of his eyes. "I can't stop thinking about her. It's not like she's going to be able to avoid this thing. Not in Forks. I can't stand to think of her facing that alone."

His mother studied his face, pushing his hair back. "This is important to you."

Edward leaned his head against the back of the sofa. "When I was in the hospital, back then… One time, I was pretending to be asleep." He did that a lot when he first woke up. For a while when everything first happened, he just kept his eyes closed. As though if he could only sleep enough, he'd wake up from the nightmare. "I heard you guys talking about Bella. I guess her mother had finally showed up to take her away, and you were crying about it. You said it was the last thing Charlie would have wanted." He looked between them. "We can do something now."

There was another silence, and then Esme spoke again. "I don't think I've ever heard you this interested in anything."

"You think I'm crazy." It wasn't a question.

"I think you're a sweet boy with a good heart."

Edward almost smirked. It was such a mom answer.

His father patted his shoulder. "I don't want to sound condescending, but you know you can't change people who don't want to be changed. She has to want to be helped."

"I know." Edward pushed up so he was sitting on the couch. "I could see it, Dad. She wants to believe there's something else besides that place. Somewhere she can actually build something." He looked at them as they got up to sit on either side of them on the couch. "I'm not enough. Another stupid ass boy who thinks he's the answer to all her problems?" He shook his head. "She needs you, not me."

His parents exchanged another one of those 'our son is so broken' glances he hated. He growled, irritated, and stood up, pacing away. "This is important. You liked her when she was a little girl."

"I'm sure we'll like her now. Edward, you know if you're going back to that place, we're going with you," his father said. "That's not even a question."

"But we're your parents," his mother said. "You can't ask us to be more concerned about someone else's child as we are about you."

"There's nothing wrong with me." Edward scoffed. "Well, nothing that's ever going to be fixed, anyway. My brain is broken, Mom. That's never going to change."

"That's not what I'm talking about." She sighed, crossing her arms over her chest. "I know you want to salvage what you can from what happened."

Edward turned his back to his mother, flexing his hands at his sides.

"I know that's why you went to the school in New York like Leah would have. You got a business degree like Mike was planning to do. You've traveled to all the places you know Angela wanted to go to." She stepped to his side and put a hand to his back. "I suppose I've been hoping, now that you've accomplished so much, that you would finally start living life for yourself soon."

"When are you going to understand that I'm never going to be the man I would have been? I don't even know who I would have been, so I don't know what kind of life you think I'm missing out on." He turned to face his worried parents. "Most people aren't passionate about what they do for a living. I'm good at what I do. Most people haven't been to all the places I've been to. I've seen amazing things. Please don't tell me I'm wasting my life." That was exactly what he'd made sure not to do.

"I didn't mean it like that." His mother looked pained. "I just meant—"

"You meant that you want me to have my own ideas. You don't want me to dictate my life according to some high school kids who died a decade ago." He grunted, and ran a hand through his hair. "There's nothing unique about life goals you know. You figure out what you want to be and what you want to do because someone already did it. What you really wish is that my inspiration didn't come from something so horrible."

His mother's eyes shone with tears, and his father put his arm around her. Edward ran his hand through his hair again. He hadn't meant to make his mother upset. "You worry a lot about me, and it's not like I don't understand why. But I'm doing okay. I like that I'm good at my job. I like my coworkers. I like the adventures I've been on. I live independently, and I can pay my rent every month. And one day, I'll meet someone, and they'll fit into my life. We'll get married and fill your house with grandkids. I'm fine."

"But Bella isn't," Carlisle said, picking up Edward's drift. "She's not even close to being on a path for any kind of happiness."

Edward nodded emphatically. "Exactly."

"Of course we'll go to Forks with you, and we'll see what we can do. I bet your brother will go. Your sister isn't busy anymore either."

Edward arched an eyebrow. "You want to hit her with the whole family at once? We're trying to recruit her, not scare her away forever."

"I thought family was the point." Carlisle said with a chuckle. Esme smirked. "Just be prepared. It's her life, and she might not like being told she's wasting it."

Edward's lip twitched, and he nodded. "Noted." He walked forward and put his arms around his parents. They folded around him, making him feel, for the moment, safe despite what he knew was coming. "Thank you."

* * *

 **A/N: Back to Forks we gooooo.**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: I dreamed I was a car. I woke up exhausted.**

 **Wait. What?**

* * *

Why was she doing this? Why was she even thinking about doing this?

Bella tossed her phone away, disgusted at herself. She dug her fists into her aching eyes, trying to breathe through the tightness in her chest. She needed a drink.

No, she reminded herself. She didn't need a drink. She wanted a drink. She wanted a drink because she didn't want to be the one who had to live the next few days of her life. Was a break really that much to ask?

But no. Of course it was. Hadn't she just turned down Edward—Christ, Edward Cullen had come to rescue her, that was some Prince Charming bullshit—on his offer to take her away from all this? After all that, she wasn't about to coax an addiction into existence.

She was just going to have to survive this memorial.

It would sure be a hell of a lot easier if she wasn't the center of attention, though. She knew she would be. She was alive to receive the attention, so that put her above everyone who'd died. And, despite actually being in the shooting, she'd lost the most that day.

Except for Sue. Two kids and a husband trumped two step-siblings and a father, if only because everyone knew burying a child was the worst thing. Which was why there was no way it was right for Bella to coax Sue to come.

Bella grabbed at her phone. No harm in sending a text, right? Information gathering; that was all.

Bella: Are you coming to this thing?

She squeezed her eyes tightly shut, took a deep breath, and erased the message. Then, she recomposed it so she at least asked her stepmother how she was doing. No need to be a total savage along with being an asshole.

Sue: I'm here. That's about as much as anyone can ask of me these days.

Bella snorted. Yeah. It didn't really work that way when you lived at ground zero. She took a deep breath and asked.

It was a whole two minutes before the reply came.

Sue: Are you?

Bella: No choice.

Sue: You don't have to do anything you don't want to do.

Bella laughed, the sound raw and painful in her dry throat. It was a nice theory. Dead wrong, but nice to contemplate.

Bella: You remember Forks, right? If I don't go, everyone will have an opinion.

They'd dress it up. They'd tell her they couldn't blame her for not going, but in that way that said clearly they were lying. How could she not honor her own father? The only siblings she'd ever known? She was alive, and they weren't. What could she possibly have to cry about?

Sue: I'll be there tomorrow, Bella. We can do New Year's together.

Bella: You want to stay at the house?

Sue: Sure.

Bella slumped over at the table, more relieved than she would ever be able to express. Just this. This was the only part she didn't want to handle by herself. She'd deal with everything else. Just not this.

It seemed like a fair trade.

 _ **~0~**_

People always said that Sue was doing better than she had any right to expect. She'd gone to Montana to stay with her family after the tragedy. She was still a nurse. "Saving other people's babies," she said. She was a good aunt to her nieces, nephews, grandnieces, and grandnephews.

"All I know is that I'm still here," Sue had told Bella once. "Sometimes, I'm glad. Sometimes, it just pisses me off."

Sue arrived early on New Year's Eve. The look on her face was as severe as Bella remembered. Though Sue had been kind to her when she was a child, she'd always been just a little scared of the woman.

On the drive home from the airport, conversation was stilted. Sue had never been overly talkative. She'd been good for Charlie that way. Someone to share his peaceful silences.

Really, there was only one thing Bella could say. "Thank you."

Sue gave a grunt as she got out of the car. "Nothing to thank me for. Well…" She hauled her suitcase out of the back of the car and took a bottle from the front pocket. "Except maybe this."

"What's that?"

Sue grinned. "Rez moonshine just like they used to make in La Push."

Bella gave a startled laugh. "Oh, I remember this. I remember one weekend Leah and Seth were out camping with the Cullens. What's his name… Dad's other friend from the rez?"

"Billy Black," Sue supplied as they headed up the walk, into the house.

"Yeah. He brought over some of this stuff, and the three of you…" Bella shook her head. "The three of you were so damn loud that night. I was so annoyed because I was really into this book I was reading."

Sue chuckled. "You were an easy kid, you know that?" She sighed as she stepped in the house. Her eyes roamed, and Bella wished she'd changed something. Anything to make it look less like the house they'd all lived in together. The house her children and husband had lived in. Sue shivered. "Not like my hellions. They got into the 'shine a couple of times. Well, Leah and that Cullen kid did. Seth was just beginning to get into trouble, but the things I could tell you about Leah and her friends would make your hair curl."

"Hah. You're talking about the stuff they didn't get away with. I know a lot of the things they _did_ get away with." Bella smiled, remembering catching Leah sneaking out the door.

" _Tell anyone and you're dead,"_ she'd said, waving a menacing finger at Bella in her memories.

Out on the front stoop, teenage Edward rolled his eyes. " _Keep your mouth shut, and we'll save a slice of pizza for you_."

Sue sighed. "Yeah," she muttered, her expression sad and far away as she looked around the house.

"Sorry."

Sue shook her head. "It's nice to talk to someone who knew them. Sometimes, it feels like they never existed. The family over there only saw them a couple of times, you know?" She shrugged. "Anyway, it's why we're here, right? To remember them? That's the whole point."

They made a simple dinner together—spaghetti and salad. As it got closer to midnight, Sue poured the moonshine. "To my kids and your dad."

Once they were good and tipsy, Sue surprised Bella by getting more talkative. Seeing her like this was weird. Bella had always been the child to Sue's adult, so drinking with her like they were buddies was surreal. But, apparently, Sue was the kind of person who needed a little liquid courage to say things she'd been keeping inside.

"I'm sorry, Bella," she said apropos of nothing.

Bella furrowed her brow, confused. "Huh?" she said eloquently.

"I just… It's a hell of a thing, you know? Your dad…"

Bella sucked in a breath. She wondered if she was drunk enough for this conversation.

"You were the most important thing in the world to Charlie." Sue wasn't looking at Bella, but swirling the remnants of her drink around and around. "After all he went through to get you away from your mother, I just let her take you."

"She's my mother," Bella muttered. "I don't think you could have stopped her."

Sue scoffed. "She asked me to take you. At the funeral, she asked me. Said she was the wrong person to ask to take care of a traumatized teenager."

Bella stared down at her hands, stung. It was nothing but the truth. Renee hadn't ever been a good caretaker. She was good at hugs, but Bella didn't need hugs back then. She'd needed the world to stop shaking. She'd needed security, and to know she was even a little bit safe. She'd been angry and more terrified than she had words to express.

Still, it hurt that Renee had never had any intention of trying to be what Bella needed. After all, she'd fought Charlie for Bella once. To know her mother thought of her as too damaged to touch ached.

"I should have been strong enough," Sue said.

"Why?" Bella said with a touch of bitterness. Not at Sue, but at the world. "If everything was what it should be, nothing would go wrong. My parents would have been made for each other, because if they weren't, I should never have been born. And whatever the hell happened to make Yorkie into what he became never would have happened. We'd all just wander around being pleasant to each other."

She could feel Sue's eyes on her but didn't look up. She hurt, and she was so sick of hurting.

"There's a lot of good still left in the world. You know that, right?" Sue asked softly.

Bella thought about Sue keeping this house—a house she and Charlie had bought together—as one of the only things she could give Bella on her father's behalf. Thought about her boss offering her what little work he could scrape together.

She thought about waking up in Edward Cullen's arms on Christmas morning and how he'd practically begged her to let him help. "I know."

 _ **~0~**_

It was a mixed blessing that the memorial was so soon after New Year's. The town was more alive than usual; all the hotel rooms booked between the press and the families. Most of the families of the victims had left Forks, so several of them were in town.

As a result, the town's few restaurants were open on New Year's Day. It was great, because Bella was in no mood to cook for herself. Sue had taken off early for La Push, wanting to see some old friends. Bella was on her own, and cooking for one wasn't any fun. Of course, that meant she had to brave being around people whom she knew damn well would want to talk to her.

Deciding it couldn't be helped, Bella put up her hood and headed out into the bitter cold.

Despite the hood up, head down, fuck-off posture, it was inevitable. Just as she was about to order, she heard her name. "Bella?"

That wasn't a surprise. What was a surprise was the voice who said it. Bella spun around. "Edward?" she asked, though it was quite obviously him behind her.

"Hey," he said, his lips turned up in a small, if awkward, smile.

"Hi. Sorry." She knew she was staring at him. "I didn't think you were going to come to this thing."

"Changed my mind." He made a gesture, tilting his head back behind him. "Do you want to sit with us?"

"Us?" Bella peered around him and got a second shock for the morning. It was the Cullens. All of them, plus a blond woman Bella had never seen. "Oh."

The strangest feeling came over Bella when she saw the Cullens. They were familiar to her in that very distant way. She hadn't really thought of them. They'd never been as immediate as Edward was. Edward had been Leah's best friend, over at her house frequently, and she'd had a hell of a crush on him. Alice and Emmett were older even than Edward and Leah—hardly on Bella's radar at all.

Carlisle and Esme.

Bella didn't expect to feel the overwhelming sense of longing. She hadn't even registered their loss; not until that very moment.

There was something about Carlisle's gentle smile that reminded her so much of Charlie. She'd never made the connection before. Charlie had been so gruff—bad with his emotions where Carlisle was open. She remembered when she was very young, how Carlisle was the one who could coax her to show him her drawings or her poetry. And he would give her that same look Charlie did—full of pride and genuine pleasure at what she'd created. He had a way of making her feel good in that way that only parents could.

And then Esme. When she rose and greeted Bella, she caressed her hair so tenderly. Bella remembered that too. Whenever they'd come over to Charlie's house or the family had gone to theirs, Esme would touch her like that. A mother's touch. And Bella had trusted her. It was Esme she'd gone to the first time she had her period. Esme who asked her about boys and giggled with her conspiratorially when she admitted maybe, kinda, sorta she had a crush, but there was no way the guy would be interested.

How had she forgotten what an integral, if not constant, part of her life these people had been to her once? Her voice was in her throat as she greeted them. Let them hug her.

"Heya, Bitty." Emmett Cullen loomed, and Bella had to crane her neck to look up at him. He grinned. "Nice to see you. I mean. Could have been better circumstances and all…"

Bella couldn't help but arch an eyebrow. Nice to see her? She remembered young Edward being upset when Emmett ignored him. Had he ever even known Bella was alive?

But his smile was genuine now. So was Alice's for that matter. Alice had turned into a mini—literally mini, the woman was tiny—Esme except with short black hair instead of caramel brown. She was warm, with a welcoming smile that set Bella at ease despite the semi-awkward situation. And she talked. A lot. Bella quickly learned that there was no such thing as a lull in the conversation when Alice was around.

The blond woman was Rosalie; Emmett's wife. She was taciturn, and she obviously found Forks distasteful. At least, that was what Bella assumed it meant when she looked out the window and made a face. Or looked over at the next table and made a face. Or her eyes widened with distaste at what Waylon, who was obviously still a touch drunk from the night before, was saying, loudly, as he stood in line to order. But she adored her boisterous husband, so who was Bella to judge?

Bella found she was actually beginning to relax. She should have known it couldn't last.

"Dr. Cullen? Esme? Is that you?"

Bella tensed. Karen Newton was making her way to their table. She came up short when she got a glimpse of the full table. "Oh," she said. Bella watched the blood drain from Edward's face.

Right. Mike Newton, Karen's son, had been at the same table Edward was sitting at when Yorkie came for them. Bella watched as each member of Edward's family kind of angled themselves toward him. Esme put a reassuring arm around Edward's shoulders, and he took a deep breath. "H-hey, Mrs. Newton."

Karen's eyes reflected the pain she must have felt. Edward was the only one of the shooting victims who'd survived. But her expression gentled after a moment. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. You startled me. They said you weren't going to be here."

"Who said?" Carlisle asked, his brows knitted in concern.

Karen looked apologetic. "The news people. They said they wanted to a do a piece on that table. Your table, you know? And they said that they thought you weren't coming."

Right. The fucking media. They'd been up Bella's ass for a solid two months trying to get a story out of her. She flexed her fists at her side. She jumped when Alice, sitting beside her, threaded her arm through hers. She looked over, and the other woman gave her a reassuring smile.

It was easier. Whatever this was—anxiety, Bella supposed—with that small gesture, Alice made it easier. Emmett winked at her, and that made it easier too.

"It's good to see you again," Karen said after a few minutes conversation about the reporters that had been milling around town the last couple of days. She turned at smiled at Edward. "I'm glad you're looking so well."

Edward let out a sharp breath when she walked away. "So, that sucked." He grimaced. "I guess I should get used to it for the next couple of days."

"You could hide out at my house for the day," Bella blurted before she could think twice about it. "I mean… It's a little less cramped than a hotel room. I think." She looked around the table. "All of you can come if you want."

"We wouldn't want to intrude," Esme said.

Bella shook her head. "Intrude on what?" she said with a laugh. "I don't have anything going on. I mean, I was thinking of throwing a wicked kegger, but if I have to invite the media, that's definitely out."

Emmett snorted. "No lie. I say we keep the booze all to ourselves."

"You can have all the booze, believe me. I don't think that rez moonshine is healthy to drink twice in a row."

Carlisle balked. "Rez moonshine. You mean, like from La Push?" His eyes went wide. "That stuff put more than one person in the hospital."

Bella had to laugh. "Don't worry, Doc. I made it through. Didn't even have a hangover this morning."

"Yeah, Dad, and she already said she wasn't going to drink it again tonight," Alice said, throwing her father a teasing look.

"And you'd be there to supervise." Esme patted her husband's arm.

So Bella, who'd started the morning alone, ended up with a houseful of guests. It took her hours to figure out why it felt so surreal.

It was New Year's Day. Emmett put on the Rose Parade. Rosalie had rolled her eyes at him and put on the game. Alice found an old puzzle and determined that the only way to figure out if it was complete would be to make it. Esme made cider and hot chocolate. Edward sat beside Bella and told her stories about Emmett's most outrageous New Year's antics from the past.

She was celebrating New Year's with a family, and she didn't feel like an intruder. It felt natural. Right, and really nice. A nice change from her late teen years, when she'd most often woken up in a trashed apartment with the world's worst hangover. Or the last few years when she'd been alone.

And her house, her quiet house so full of ghosts, was instead filled with warmth and light.

As evening fell, Esme followed her upstairs. Bella had a whim to dress up the old dining room table with the fancy table cloth, and Esme volunteered to help her find it. So, they trooped up to the dusty attic and started to rummage.

"Charlie always did talk about taking a trip to fish in California," Esme said, coming across a bunch of Charlie's old fishing stuff. "I wish… Well, I wish a lot of things."

"I lived with my mom in Arizona a couple of years when I was really little. Dad vacationed with me for a couple weeks in the summer in California. I guess it was a halfway point." Bella shrugged. "I don't really remember it, but there are some pictures of me in Yosemite. I think I might have been four."

Esme hummed. She waited a beat for saying with an air of nonchalance, "Maybe you could visit soon."

And then, Bella knew. She put down the box she'd been looking through and sat back on her haunches. "Oh, man…"

Esme looked up. "What is it, sweetheart?"

Bella clenched her jaw, trying not to overreact. "Edward wants me to come to California," she muttered, talking to herself more than to Esme. "He thinks Forks is a dead end. He wanted me to come home with him, and then he comes back a few days later with all his family." A family he'd said would accept her. "This is a damn set up, isn't it?" She glared at Esme accusingly.

Esme frowned, looking guilty. "Is that such a horrible thing?"

Bella stood, pacing to the window, trying not to lose her temper. It wasn't really Esme's fault. The woman had been nothing but kind. "You know… I'm not some pathetic creature that needs to be picked up and brought home. I get that he thinks he's being nice, but who the hell is he to tell me what my life is worth? I don't need a white knight."

"No one thinks you're pathetic. Far from it."

"Oh, no?" Now Bella did let her anger find Esme. "You don't feel sorry for me?"

"Of course I feel sorry for you. I knew your father. Maybe better than you did because we were good friends. I know what you missed; the kind of life you could have had if he hadn't died. There's nothing wrong with feeling sorrow for another person's situation. I feel sorry for me too, that I lost that friendship."

"So what, you think you're just going to adopt me? Like a puppy or a pet project? See if you can set me straight? Fix me?" Bitterness soaked every word. Bella crossed her arms, not looking at Esme's sad, sympathetic frown.

"Fix you? There's not a damn thing wrong with you, Bella."

Bella scoffed. "Yeah, right." She turned away again.

She heard Esme's soft footsteps and tensed, but the woman didn't touch her. But her voice was soft and closer when she spoke again. "You're a strong and capable young woman, standing on her own two feet. I think you can do anything.

"But, I also think that Edward has a point. There's only so much anyone can accomplish in Forks regardless of what else they have going on." A small hint of humor dropped into her tone. "You'd make a good lumberjack, if that's what you wanted, but I don't think you do."

Bella let out a weak laugh, and her shoulders slumped. "I have no idea what I want," she muttered.

Her whole plan was just to stop. Stay still and keep breathing for as long as it took for the world to stop spinning so wildly on its axis. That's what she'd been doing for too many years now. Spinning, spinning, spinning aimlessly.

Esme touched her shoulder with a slight weight. "It's not such an unusual problem. You know, Emmett ran from this place the second he turned eighteen like his ass was on fire. He couldn't wait to be out on his own." She chuckled. "And he was about your age when he came back home. School hadn't worked out. He was aimless. He came home to us, and we helped him find his way. It was his journey. It still is his journey, but it made all the difference in the world that he could come home.

"All we're saying, Bella, is that you have a home with us. Unconditionally. Whatever that means to you. Whatever you need."

Bella swallowed hard, still not daring to look at her. "That's crazy. I'm not your kid."

Esme's smile was sad. "You don't have children yet, so I'd imagine this is hard to understand. When your good friends have children, they become yours. Not your very own. Not to raise, but they're people you love and care for. Whom you cheer when they succeed and cry for when they hurt.

"Bella, when everything happened, of course, I was most concerned with my own child." Pain flashed through her eyes. "Everything happened so fast. Edward was whisked off to Seattle, on death's door, and by the time I remembered how to breathe, you were already gone. I don't know if I could have helped back then, but I never forgot about you. None of us did.

"You're ours. Some things are what they are. That's all there is to it." Esme gave her shoulder a light squeeze. "It's nothing you have to answer today. The offer stands if you want to think about it."

* * *

 **A/N: Soooooo.**

 **What are we thinking, kiddos?**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Let's see how this plays out.**

* * *

The little town was crawling. It looked wrong to see the parking lot of the schools—both the middle school and high school—crowded with cars and news vans parked all down the little street.

"Fuck me," Bella muttered under her breath.

Beside her, Sue grunted. She patted Bella's shoulder. "This is the kind of day we just take a deep breath and get through." She offered up a humorless smile. "It's not the worst day."

Bella huffed. "No. Not the worst day." Just the same place. Just all the memories of the screaming. Just remembering the voice on the walkie-talkie.

" _The chief is… Jesus. He's dead. He's gone."_

"Fuck." She shook her head hard, trying to shut the voices up. They kept coming, though.

Officer Marks had killed two birds with one stone. He'd grabbed his son, a senior at the high school, and told him to take Bella and get out of there. Bella, scrappy little thing that she was, had fought back hard, _needing_ to go to her father who absolutely couldn't be dead. But Austin was stronger, and he'd dragged her away, into the closest safe building—the local salon. Bella didn't remember much. She remembered at some point the fight had gone out of her, and she'd curled in on herself, kneeling with her head bent all the way to the floor, just crying and crying and crying.

Beside her, Sue took a shuddering breath, and Bella wondered what awful images littered her memories. The call had come in to the small clinic in La Push where Sue had worked as a nurse. Gunshots at the high school.

"They told me, when I got here, that I was needed at the hospital." Sue blanched noticeably. "But not as a nurse."

Bella wondered if she'd known right then that her husband and son were lying dead in the cafeteria. Maybe she had. Maybe she'd seen them. It wasn't like there were enough people on the Forks police force to secure the perimeter.

That was some relief, she supposed. She could imagine her father's bloody body all she wanted. That image actually existed in the memories of some people here. She was on edge for a lot of reasons, not the least of which was that she was dreadfully certain someone was going to tell her about it in great detail. In the months she'd been back in Forks, she'd already had a few awkward conversations with people who'd been there that day; seen her father and her step-siblings, and Eric Yorkie with his gun. Putting a whole lot of people with stories together in one place was a nightmare waiting to happen.

It was worse. Almost as soon as they set foot in the parking lot, a woman in a swanky, black jacket came up to them. She was blond with sharp eyes, and despite her smile, Bella instantly didn't trust her. Of course, that probably had a lot to do with the dark-haired man following behind her with a professional-looking camera.

"You're Isabella Swan, right? I've been trying to talk to you for ages." She looked to Sue. "And you're Sue, right? I'm Jane Scarpinato."

Bella recognized the name and a cold chill went down her spine. She dodged to the side, ignoring Jane's hand. "I told you about a million times I have no interest in speaking to you."

Jane fell into step beside her and Sue as they made their way for the school. "I'm just asking for a little context here. Your arrest record makes for a heartbreaking peek into your life."

Bella stopped short and turned to stare at Jane. Sue took a step forward. "What the hell is the matter with you?"

Jane arched a cool eyebrow. "Arrest records are public information. Nothing too horrendous. Drunk and disorderly conduct. Shoplifting. A minor possession charge. It's not as bad as others."

At that, Bella took a step back. "What do you mean?"

"Tyler Crowley's little brother is doing hard time for murder. He's twenty years old, and he'll probably never be a free man again." She consulted a notebook. "Lauren Mallory's mother committed suicide." She looked up again and tilted her head. "It's not always good news."

"And you people feed off that kind of thing," Sue sneered.

Jane shrugged, neither apologetic nor particularly bothered by the accusation. "Terrible things happen all the time." She gestured around them. "When we get together to commemorate them, people want information. That's all. Like I said, death records and arrest records are public knowledge."

Which meant that everyone here, all the reporters, had the exact information.

"Listen, you—" Sue started to say, but Bella took a step forward.

"We have good days; we have bad ones," she said, speaking slowly while Jane rushed to flip on a dictaphone. "The good ones would have been a thousand times better if our family was here. The bad days would be different, but we'd still have them."

"Do you often wonder what your father would think about how your life turned out?" Jane asked, straight-faced.

Bella blinked. Beside her, Sue scoffed. "Jesus Christ," the woman muttered under her breath.

"I don't know what my father would have thought," Bella lied. "I was fourteen when he died. I didn't really know him." That much was true. Children never knew their parents the way adults did. "And yeah, before you can ask, that pisses me the hell off. You got your five minutes. Now, don't bother me." She put a hand up. "And if you take that picture, you're going to have something else to read off my arrest warrant."

With that, she stalked away before she could lash out. Making some of her father's old work colleagues arrest her would really be the dingleberry on the shit sundae of this day.

"As fun as that was…" Sue muttered, shaking her head.

"Bella?"

Now, that voice was much more welcome. Bella felt herself relax infinitesimally as she turned around and found the Cullen clan approaching en masse. It was Edward she looked to first. He was worse for the wear—his face a drained white, as though he'd just thrown up or at least wanted to. He hugged her as they got close.

As he pulled back, he frowned at something over Bella's shoulder. Sure enough, Jane the obnoxious reporter was glancing between the two of them. She took a step in their direction, but Emmett stepped in front of all of them. "Don't even think about it," he said to the reporter and her friend.

Esme had gone to stand by Sue. Carlisle and Alice flanked Emmett, and the reporter backed down quickly enough. She flashed a smile. "See you in there."

They watched her walk away. "You already had the pleasure, huh?" Bella asked.

"Oh, yeah." Edward breathed in through his nose, his eyes following Jane for another long moment before he turned back to Bella. "She cornered us in the hotel when we got back last night. She said she wanted to feature me because I'm this tragedy's biggest success story." His jaw was set in a scowl. "I'm the only one who survived the shooting, and I've done okay for myself."

That, Bella thought privately, was an understatement. Jane wasn't really wrong either, but that didn't make her less aggravating.

"Forget about her," Alice said, stepping in for her own hug. "How are you holding up, sweets?"

Sue, Bella had discovered the evening before, had fallen out of contact with the Cullens. She'd fallen out of contact with almost everyone in Forks or La Push. But it seemed to do her some good to see her old friends again.

So, it was natural for all of them to enter the school together. Esme threaded her arm through Sue's, all of them fortifying each other as they made their way through the throngs of people. Way too many people.

"Whoa," Edward said as a man came toward him. "Vice Principal Green."

The man smiled. "Principal Green now," he said. He offered his hand. "Edward. It's good to see you after all these years." He looked around at the rest of them, greeting them all by name before he looked back to Edward. "Listen, son. This thing is being held in the cafeteria." He gave him an apologetic look as he spoke. "It's the only place that holds everyone."

As they had the day before, Edward's whole family seemed to orient themselves around him. He'd gone bone-white, but at his father's touch to his arm, he nodded. "That makes sense." He made an effort to straighten up. "I appreciate the warning."

It wasn't a good time. Sure, objectively, Bella could appreciate what was going on. Each of the dead was honored. Maybe, under other circumstances, Bella would have been touched by the officers who stepped up to talk about her father.

But the longer it went on, the longer Bella had to stew in the oppressive knowledge of what had been lost. So many lives touched, altered forever. Parents without their children. Children without their siblings and friends. Bright young lives that would never be lived.

Her cheeks went clammy. Her skin began to crawl. She wanted out of there, but how to leave without making a scene?

A light touch to her knee made her gasp. She looked over and found Edward watching her. The look in his eyes twisted her heart.

He knew, she realized. He knew exactly what she was feeling.

As well-intentioned and even beautiful as this ceremony was, it was a farce. The injustice of it made Bella want to writhe in her seat. She felt as though she was going to go out of her skin with it. This wasn't enough. How could anything be enough to honor all the chances that died here, the bright futures?

She was angry and nauseated—she had the surreal sensation that they were all swimming in blood. She resented everyone who sat there, faces attentive, cheeks wet as they listened to the memorials. More than anything, she just kind of hated the world right at that moment.

But the one thing she didn't feel—at least, not while looking in Edward's eyes—was alone. No, he was right there with her. It was as though she could hear his inner monologue. Fuck this and fuck all of you and fuck the hell out of Eric Yorkie. Fuck everyone who'd made him who he was. Fuck his parents and everyone on that god damned list of his who'd pushed him closer and closer to the edge.

Edward took her hand, and she twined her fingers around his, squeezing hard. His touch kept her from going out of her mind. Not that the lingering anxiety left her, but it was easier to ignore with him beside her. She was distracted by whatever this thing was that existed between them. It was a buzz she could almost hear, even over the noise of what was going on. She hid there where it was, at least relatively, safe. Warm. Comforting.

Forever later, the ceremony was over. Bella knew better than to think she'd be able to leave right away. She hadn't missed how many people in the audience had glanced their way. The moment the mayor thanked everyone for coming, a number of heads turned toward their row, intent on talking to either a Cullen or a Swan.

"Come on," Edward said near Bella's ear, still clutching her hand. His parents had engaged the nearest people in conversation, leaving a narrow window of escape.

It didn't last long, of course. No matter that they made a beeline for the door, others got there first. Several people called their names.

"Lean into me," Edward whispered to her. "Pretend you're crying."

Bella wrapped an arm around his waist and hid her face at his neck. She let him lead her away from the crowd down the hallway. "It's okay," he said loud enough that people could hear him. "We're going to take a walk."

Instead of heading outside, Edward turned down a small hallway, then into a larger one. When they were away from the people, he let her go, leading her by the hand. It felt strangely like they were school kids sneaking out of class. She had to press her tongue to the roof of her mouth to keep from giggling with the surreal naughtiness of it.

He led them to the gym. Their quick footsteps echoed as he pulled her with him into the locker room. "It's always quiet in here," Edward said, edging along the wall until he found the light switch. He flipped only one switch, giving them light from the furthest corner of the room. "There."

Bella didn't know what she was going to do until he'd turned back to her and she found his face so close to hers. They held each other's gaze for a few seconds, the air between them changing and charging in an instant. One moment they were staring, the next Bella had cupped her hand behind Edward's neck and pushed up onto the balls of her feet to kiss him.

If he was surprised, it didn't show. His arm came around her back, and he pulled her hard against him, his mouth moving with hers. That buzz she'd felt all during the ceremony turned up to a fever pitch.

Quickly, mouths and seeking hands weren't nearly enough. Bella found herself stepping backward as Edward pushed forward. Then, her back was up against a locker. She fumbled at Edward's fly, finding him already half hard beneath her hand. His groan rumbled low against her lips as she fondled him through his pants.

"Bella." His voice was low and scratchy as he broke their kiss. He ducked his head, dragging his teeth along the skin of her neck.

"What?" She hitched her leg up on his waist, needing him closer, tilting her head back as he nipped and licked.

"Come to California," he said, bucking his hips against her hand.

She moaned—something akin to a growl that was mixed pleasure and aggravation. It was absolutely not fair of him to say something like that when his mouth was doing that thing that drove her crazy. She didn't want to think. She wanted to feel good and alive. "You're thinking with your dick," she said breathlessly, giving his warm, hard flesh a squeeze.

He whimpered. "No, I'm not." His weight was gone from her then, but only enough so that he could spin her around. He took her hands and pressed each of them to the locker in front of her then dropped his hands. In one smooth motion, he'd yanked her slacks and panties down. Not much. Just enough. They both knew this had to be quick.

"Not thinking with your dick, huh?" The tension in the room was a physical entity, filling her lungs so she breathed it in and out. It wasn't bad. Far from bad, it was intense, and that was scary too. She didn't want to run from it, but diluting it, if only just a little, would be good. "Then I must be imagining things," she said as he ran the head of his cock along her slit.

"Well…" He pushed inside her, one hand poised on her hip, the other cupped under her chin, tilting her head back against him. They both moaned at that first connection. He rested his cheek against hers, moving in her hard and deep. "Just don't make me leave you here, Bella."

They both lapsed into silence then, losing themselves in each other. Bella reached a hand back, tangling her fingers in his hair. She closed her eyes and thought of nothing but the feel of him. The way he filled her. The way his hand moved, playing at the skin of her belly—a tender touch. He ducked his head, kissing along her neck and up to her cheek before she turned her head to catch his lips.

 _ **~0~**_

Hours later, when the Cullens were back in their hotel with plans to leave the next day and she was back in the house with Sue, Bella sat trailing her fingertips over her lips. She could still feel his touch, his heat. She could feel his lips and hear his voice near her ear.

 _Don't make me leave you here._

"You're not even watching this, are you?"

Sue's voice pulled Bella back into the present, away from the warmth of Edward's arms around her and back to the cold house. She shivered, pulling the blanket up to her chin. "Not really," she admitted.

"You don't have to keep me company."

"I'm okay." Bella didn't want to be alone yet either. Soon enough this house, this town, would be silent again, and she would be alone.

"Hmm." It was obvious Sue knew something was up, but she didn't press the issue. More than likely, she thought it had something to do with the ceremony.

Not that the ceremony wasn't part of the chaos in Bella's head. It was all in there, swirling around and making it impossible to concentrate. Her memories of her father, of Leah, of Seth were all too close to the surface today. She mourned for them and for all the pain she'd seen today. She mourned herself—the girl she'd been back then, all shy innocence. The girl with her books and her dreams of sunny places and adventures to come.

"The Cullens want to keep me. Did they tell you that?" Bella asked apropos of nothing. She kept her tone light.

Sue turned her head to stare, a startled expression on her face. "What?"

"Yeah." Bella smiled as though to say, 'those crazy people.' She told Sue the story as though it were an anecdote. "They're sweet people."

Sue was quiet for a long time afterward. Bella hadn't really expected her to say anything, so she was caught by surprise when Sue said softly, "You should go, Bella."

"I can't do that," Bella said instantly, the charade of nonchalance dropped in an instant.

It was the same argument she'd made over and over. To Edward. To herself. She'd been running, running, running. All her life. "Now you all want me to run again?" she demanded, raising her voice. She was hunkered down in her seat, her arms crossed, and an odd sense of betrayal roiling in her. Maybe she'd trusted Sue to dissuade her. Maybe that was why she'd said anything in the first place. "My dad did everything he could to keep me out of my mom's hands because he didn't want my life to be like that. Wouldn't he want me to stop?"

"Your dad wanted steadiness and security for you. He didn't rest; he didn't stay still, until he got that for you." Sue shook her head. "I know what it took for you to call me to be here for you today. I know I'm all you have, but I could still barely give you this." She stood and came to stand in front of Bella. She took her face in her hands, her features etched in compassion. Bella sucked in a breath.

"You're not too old to be taken care of. None of us ever is too old to need someone." Sue caressed her cheek. "It's not running, my dove. I know it's a risk, but that's the thing about life, isn't it? It's all a risk. Stay here, stay still—is that really safe?" She looked around. "This house would drive me insane."

Bella scoffed but said nothing. She was trying hard not to cry.

"You want to go," Sue said. It wasn't a question.

She did and she didn't. It depended on the minute.

"Go," Sue said.

Bella closed her eyes, a tear running down her cheek. She thought of all the mistakes she'd made, the people she'd trusted who had let her down—herself included.

She thought of each of the Cullens. Emmett who teased her like she was his little sister. Alice who seemed to like chatting with her. It would be nice to have a friend like Alice. Carlisle and Esme—warm and steady and loving.

Edward. Lost, like her, and yet found at the same time. Damaged but not broken.

She took a deep, shuddering breath. "Okay," she whispered.

* * *

 **A/N: I kept on singing Defying Gravity in my head while I was writing this.**

 **It's time to trust my instincts, close my eyes, and leaaaaaaapppp.**


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Let's go! Shorty chappy, but I'll be back sooner than later for the next one.**

* * *

All around Edward, his family was packing up, getting ready to go. He wanted to help. The thought went through his mind more than once, but he couldn't get his feet to cooperate. His brain was too loud, and each new thought distracted him. He sat on the edge of the bed, staring at nothing.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he recognized how far he'd regressed. He just didn't have the energy to care. He didn't have the energy to pack or go get dinner for everyone or anything useful.

It was just a lot. The memories and the loss. There'd been way too many people, all of whom had wanted something from him. He'd felt like a caged animal at the zoo, there to be gawked at and pitied. A lot of them wanted to be forgiven. They never said the words like that, of course, but it was there between the lines. They wanted to be forgiven for not seeing it, for missing all the warning signs, for being casual observers, just walking by as others teased Eric. They'd lived with the guilt festering somewhere on their souls for ten years, and they wanted Edward to tell them it wasn't their fault so they could finally quiet that voice in the back of their head.

Well, fuck that. His voice was never quiet. He had nothing to give them.

A knock at the door should have distracted him like it did everyone else. His family stopped, looked between each other. His father went to the door. Edward didn't move. He was thinking about—

"Oh, Bella. Hello."

Those words caught Edward's attention and held them. He looked over to the door. Sure enough, Bella stood out in the hallway of the hotel, her smile twisted against too-pale skin. She looked like he felt—muddled and tortured but hanging on. He moved for the first time in over an hour, going to her like a wave washing up on a shore. He was pulled to her, and when he retreated—as waves were wont to do—he wanted to pull her with him back out to sea.

Carlisle stepped back, and Edward brushed past him into the hallway. He reached for Bella's hands, needing to touch her. She stood up a little straighter and tried to smile wider. He could see right through her, but the cocky, devil-may-care attitude she exuded sometimes was her armor. He'd never begrudge her that, especially not when she clung to his hands just as tightly as he did to hers.

"Hey," she said. She ducked her head. "I, um…"

And he knew. Relief spread through him, and he pulled her to him, wrapping her up in his arms. She let out a shuddering breath, melting against him. He could feel her trembling, her quick heartbeat. "I don't know where to start," she whispered near his ear.

"Right here. Right here's a good place."

 _ **~0~**_

Bella stayed in Forks when Edward left. She had to. She was nervous enough about what she was doing, and leaving before they had a plan in place wasn't an option. He was nervous too.

After it happened, it was almost as though Edward had to rebuild himself from the ground up. He had to figure out how to be around people again. That was the first thing and maybe the most important. Wasn't that a bitch? It was another person who'd almost taken his life, but if he didn't learn to trust other people at least enough to be out among them, Eric would have had his life after all.

So his second battle, after the physical battle of healing and getting stronger, was to fight his psyche. Agoraphobia threatened in those early days. The first time he ate out in a restaurant, he couldn't take a bite. He still remembered the way his skin crawled and how his eyes couldn't stop jumping from person to person to person, wondering which of them wanted to hurt him. His stomach churned. His parents looked just as tortured as he was, watching him suffer. But he kept at it. Forced himself outside. Forced himself to make small talk. Forced himself to stop looking for signs he couldn't possibly read.

After that was school. It was only pure pigheadedness that got him through that one. So many times the fog threatened to pull him under. So many times he forced himself to stare at the same lines over and over again until they actually sunk in through the haze. In the privacy of his room, he'd been reduced to tears often.

And so it had gone. He'd relearned how to function, and he'd learned brand new lessons. He learned how to pretend confidence and normalcy. If anyone from his day-to-day life saw him now, they wouldn't believe he was the same person. That was another talent Edward had—hiding his episodes. Though, to be fair, in recent years, up until people contacted him about this ceremony, he'd been doing pretty well.

But this? This was all new. He had friends. Acquaintances, really. There were people he talked to at work and people who occasionally invited him out for a beer or to a wedding; that kind of thing. But Edward hadn't really had a need to figure out how to be a friend again. Not a real friend. Not someone anyone could lean on.

So, yeah. He was nervous. Bella didn't need a pal. She needed not to be so alone in this damn world. She needed Edward not to fail her.

"The problem is I need to make decisions in order to make decisions," she said one day, about a week after he'd left Forks. "I'm not complaining. I'm really not. I know your parents are doing a lot of the grunt work for me."

His parents had taken on the task of collecting facts and figures for her. She needed to know her options before she decided where she was going to live, what she was going to do with her house; things like that.

"You know you can speak your mind with me," Edward said. "You have a right to feel the way you feel even if you have help." He understood feeling overwhelmed even surrounded by people who were willing to help. Only so much of the burden could be shared. "Besides, Mom was the one who insisted you had to do your own preliminary research before you asked any realtor anything."

That much Edward agreed with. As a businessman, he was used to the idea of knowing a little about whatever was being presented to him. Enough that he could identify a fool or someone looking to make him one.

On the other end of the phone, Bella scoffed. "I love and appreciate your parents, but sometimes I feel like a little kid who knows nothing around them."

"Ha. Yeah, well, Mom works with real estate agents all the time, so that's her thing, you know? She's seen first hand how a bad real estate agent can give you really bad advice. But also, that's kind of what parents do, Bella." He hoped to hell he didn't sound condescending. "When you're a teenager, it's intrusive and annoying. But at some point, you figure out that they know how to adult better than you do."

"Yeah, sure." There was a note of bitterness in Bella's voice. "So that's what it's like to have a parent who grew up in the first place."

Right. It was easy to forget that her mother was still alive for as little good as that did Bella. She sighed. "Not like she'd know the first thing about selling houses anyway. She'd probably do what I wanted to do. Just call the first realtor she could find and let them handle everything." Another sigh. "I should be able to figure out how to do this."

"Well, sure, you're capable. You could research it all yourself." He waited a beat. "Or, you could learn from a woman who has decades of experience in this field."

"All right. Point taken. And anyway, I guess it's not like I'm going to sell another house, huh?"

"Never say never." He paused again, debating. "But it could be your line of work soon."

She grunted. Esme had told her there was no shortage of work for someone who was good with fixing household appliances and other miscellaneous things. To Bella, it still felt uncomfortably like being handed something to do out of pity.

One day at a time.

 _ **~0~**_

The second week was harder than the first for both of them. The word "overwhelming" played like a skipping record over and over in his head.

Bella was overwhelmed. It was all so much—all the decisions she had to make. And, while it would probably be beneficial to her in the long run, getting used to having parents again was hard to handle for a woman who'd been without parental guidance for a solid decade. Add to that, living in a tiny ass town full of people who thought their opinions should matter, and it didn't take much to tell that Bella was on edge.

"I wouldn't commit to a job in March," Bella said to him over the phone one day. Irritation made her voice rough. Her breath was ragged, and he could almost see her pacing her house, roiling with pent-up energy. "They think they know me; the biggest fucking cautionary tale in Forks. Fucking tragic, isn't it? I'd have had a chance if the chief were here to keep me on the straight and narrow."

She scoffed. "Can you imagine if they knew about this?"

"This?"

"You. Your family. You." She stumbled over the words in a tired sort of way. "You and me. Their drama and their fantasy. The tragedy and the triumph." Her laugh was raw. "I see them watching me with that goddamned look in their eyes, and I just get tired. I'm so fucking tired of doing all the wrong things in the stories in their heads."

She was itching to run. She didn't have to say it for Edward to just know it. He imagined her all alone in that house, imagined how much easier it might seem to just grab her keys and run out the door, get in her car and drive, drive, drive. Away from Forks and the pitying eyes, but also away from Edward.

Edward's therapist had told him once that trouble was often a self-fulfilling prophecy. If everyone in Bella's life expected her to fuck up, it would be the easiest thing in the world to do. It was one of the biggest reasons he wanted her here in California where he could be a part of a positive support system for her.

She was going to run, because hope was a frightening thing. The life she could have was way too big, and big meant more ways she could mess it up. He understood all of that.

The problem was he too was overwhelmed.

He had a mental illness—an imbalance of brain chemistry that did very real things to his mind and body. In the wake of anniversary of the shooting, he was in a spiral. He was fighting depression every day—the urge to pull the covers over his head; the way he started to space out in meetings or sitting in front of his computer; the tiredness that went to the marrow of his bones, making his body feel heavy and achey.

Recovering from his time in Forks would have been more than enough work, but then there was Bella. He was confused and desperate to do the right thing. He was consumed, trying to find a path that would give them both some semblance of peace. He was…

Yeah. Overwhelmed.

One day, an hour went by after he texted. Then two. Then three. Bella didn't answer. Edward was at work, but no work was getting done. He kept looking at his phone and then staring out the window, trying to convince himself this awful feeling was just paranoia rearing its ugly head. He and paranoia were in each other's company frequently, after all.

He called his parents. "Have you talked to Bella today?"

Not today, they said.

He texted Alice. He knew she and Bella had been chatting. Nothing serious. Alice was giving her simple friendship. But she was busy, and they hadn't talked.

Edward drummed his fingers on his desk and bit at his lip savagely.

Another hour went by with no word. It was time to go home. He went, but there was an itch underneath his skin, a need to move.

 _Do something,_ a voice in his head hissed. But what was he supposed to do?

He settled for texting Bella again and pacing his floor, his phone gripped in his hand. _Do something. Do something. Fuckingdosomething._

Someone knocked on his door. He let out a gasp of breath. His head was a haze, so he didn't think at all before he moved toward the sound and opened the door without looking through the peephole. He opened the door and sucked in a breath when he came face to face with brown eyes that looked as hectic as he felt.

Bella was there on his doorstep. In California. In front of him. She had run, but toward him, not away. She flashed a grin that was surprisingly cocky. "Gotta couch I can crash on?"

* * *

 **A/N: Man, many thanks to Packy, MoH, Eleanor, Mina, Betsy, and Iris for their help.**

 **How's everyone out there?**


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: Hello, loves!**

* * *

Edward was driving her crazy.

It wasn't his fault. Bella was so restless. Her body hadn't figured out that she'd only run this far. She was on edge. Literally perched on the edge of his couch as he—poor, confused guy—tried to figure out what she'd been thinking when she came here, what she wanted, and how he could help her.

Fuck if she knew what was going on in her own head. For a long time, she'd thought of herself as a roll-with-the-punches kind of girl. That was true to an extent. The problem was that she'd rolled with the punches right off a cliff, bumping into rocks, shattering bones against trees until she finally hit rock bottom. Then, yes, she picked herself up, brushed herself off, and rolled right off the nearest ledge, starting the cycle all over again.

Then, the stark stillness of Forks. The quiet was so eerie, it made her skin crawl. She was so jumpy now. Tired and suspicious. She'd never felt more alone; never felt as small as she had amidst the oppressive black clouds and the encroaching dark forest.

Now what? Her mind screamed the words over and over again. She wanted to clap her hands over her ears, press until her eardrums burst and she couldn't hear anything anymore. She experienced emotions in extremes—jolts of terror, rushes of excitement. She wanted out of her skin and out of her own head.

Here was what she knew. She was glad to be with Edward. She was glad to be away from Forks, but even more happy to be with Edward specifically. But she needed him to shut up. She didn't want to process all the words he was saying. Yeah, she'd appeared on his doorstep out of the blue, and it made perfect sense to need to talk about that. It made perfect sense for him to want to know how she'd left things in Fork and her next steps, but she just didn't want to.

Instead, she straddled him, the movement so quick and unplanned that she had to catch herself against the back of the couch to keep from swaying off balance. His words cut off abruptly, and his hands came up to her waist to steady her. He looked up, eyes gone dark and wide. "Bella?"

"I know." She tilted her forehead against his, closing her eyes. The heat of their bodies so close together and his breath on her face calmed her ever so slightly.

Not enough.

"I know I shouldn't." She swallowed hard. "But I want to."

He looked confused, his eyes lust-dark but wary. Still, he tilted his head up in invitation, and Bella leaned in to kiss him. It was a surprisingly shaky kiss on her part, and he was gentle when he kissed back. Not unwilling, his lips said. But also very careful.

Careful wasn't going to cut it. She needed fast. Fast enough to outrun everything else she was feeling. And hard. So hard it was all she felt. Maybe an orgasm that would make her mind and vision go white.

Bella braced her hands against the back of the couch, pulling back so she and Edward were nose to nose. With her eyes intent on him, she began to move, thrusting her hips down and over him. He gasped, his fingers tightening at her waist.

"You know what I want?" Her voice was surprisingly controlled for the chaos in her head. "I want a hit. I don't even care of what. Something obscenely illegal. Something that will leave me tripping, dancing with Lucy in the sky with diamonds. I want to get bent. Get obliterated. "

She took a shuddering breath, running her fingers through his hair. He had such soft hair. "But I'm here instead. I want this too." He was hard beneath her. His hips rose up to meet her rhythm even as his eyes stayed riveted to hers. "I'm not going to pretend I have anything to give you or that this is even fair."

"You're using me like a drug." His hands climbed up her back, firm and titillating. "And if I say no, does that mean you're going to run out the door and find the next willing body? Or dealer, for that matter?"

She stopped moving over him, closing her eyes and tilting her head against his. "Fuck. That's manipulative as hell, isn't it?" Opening her eyes, Bella took his face in her hands. "I swear, I'm not trying to hurt you. I didn't come here to hurt you."

He put a hand over hers against his cheek, and splayed the other over the small of her back. "What would you do? If I said no?" He walked his fingers up her spine.

Bella exhaled slowly, closing her eyes against the delicious shiver. "I don't know."

He kissed her cheeks and used his nose to tilt her head up. When she did, he kissed the underside of her chin. "Can you sleep?"

She laughed—a shaky sound. "No."

He pressed soft kisses to her neck. "Even with me?"

Her heart ached. There'd been some nights where she would have given anything just to sleep with someone. To feel their warmth beside her. Maybe their fingers in her hair. "I'd wake up and pace the floors," she said with a sigh.

She rolled her neck, trying to find the right words. "I'm not an addict."

"I know that," he said, latching onto a tender spot on her neck and gently sucking.

She huffed out a breath. "But I'm jonesing. I'm itching. I'm—" She cut off gasp and a moan when he nipped at her neck. His hands had found their way under her shirt, and he unhooked her bra in a smooth motion. He rolled his hips up, rubbing against her.

He took her lips , swallowing her whimper when his fingers found her nipples. "Oh, hell," she mumbled into his mouth. They panted, breath hot between them. She tangled her fingers in his hair, arching up into his touch.

"Bella." He kissed a line to her ear, nibbling the earlobe. "I could use a hit."

She pulled back a little, breathless, her every sense heightened. She searched his eyes and found pieces of herself no one had ever understood. He wasn't making fun of her. He wasn't even going along with her because he wanted to get laid. He wanted to get lost just as much as she did. Lost in her. With her.

Bella got to her feet, pulling him up with her. She pulled her sweatshirt over her head, shivering in the chilly air of the room. She let her bra fall to the floor with it.

Edward took her in his arms, kissing her again as he ran his hands up and down her bare back. They wrestled in a breathless dance, both of them pulling at the other's pants, unbuttoning and tugging in between hungry kisses.

Bella dropped to her knees, looking up at Edward as she fell. She took his balls in her palms, running her thumbs over them. She watched as his eyes hooded. He cupped her cheek, thumb rubbing over her lips, and she leaned forward to kiss the head of his stiff cock.

She took him into her mouth, licking, lathing inch by sweet inch. He murmured her name with fervent whispers, fingers tangled in her hair. He tugged a little. Just enough. On the point of pain but not going over.

With a groan, he reached down, taking her by the arms and pulling her up. "Come here," he said, breathless. When she stood, he kissed her hard, like he was stealing her very breath. He licked his taste from the inside of her mouth.

Palming her ass, he pulled her tight against him. She could feel the heat of him pressed against her belly. "I need to be inside you," he rumbled against her lips.

"Yes." She ached for him, to feel his thickness filling her.

He walked backward, his mouth still hungry on hers. His fingers kneaded her ass and her fingernails dug into the skin of his shoulders.

But when he got back to the couch, he took her by the hips and spun her around. He pulled her down onto his lap, his lips at her neck. He hooked his feet inside hers, spreading her legs wide.

Bella tilted her head back, kissing him. He reached to guide his cock to her entrance and thrust up inside her. She cried out at the feel of it. He groaned too, his teeth digging into the flesh of her shoulder as he began to move in her.

"Oh. Oh, hell." Bella's eyes rolled back up into her head. She was exposed. Her body there for him to touch at will.

And he did. His hands wandered down her body, skimming along her skin, tangling in the hairs above where their bodies were joined. He grabbed her hand and moved it between her legs. Bella moaned. She could feel him moving in her inside and out. She tilted her head, and he scraped his teeth up her neck, sucking wetly at the underside of her chin.

"You feel…" His words cut off with a whine. "Fuck, Bella."

He was thrusting up into her hard and fast. She rolled her hips, meeting his thrusts, tightening around him. She arched back when his hands came up to cup her breasts. She cried out when he squeezed, rolling her nipples between his fingers. She reached back, threading her fingers in his hair, tugging, pulling.

"Oh. Oh, fuck. I…" With a cry, Bella pitched forward, out of his arms. She caught herself with both palms on the floor.

"Fuck. God." Edward held onto her hips, angling forward, sliding into her deeper with this new angle. "Bella, what are you doing to me?"

Bella had no answer. She couldn't think about words. All she could think of was the feel of him inside her. The burn of her muscles. The rawness of what was happening here. It was so physical. Every part of her body, skin and nerves and flesh, were alert and aware and moving.

Pushing back against him, her cries became louder, matched with his grunts and the slap of his skin against hers. She felt it when he began to pulse in her, and she let go, shaking with her own release, a strangled scream escaping her before she sagged, dropping her forehead to the carpet.

His hands firm around her hips kept her from falling into a heap. He was bent over her, his breath hot on her back. And after a minute, he wrapped her in his arms, bringing her back upright with him. He kissed her cheek tenderly, helping her curl against him.

When his breath slowed, he hooked an arm under her knees and stood with her in his arms. She wrapped her arms around his neck, raising up to kiss him. Sweet kisses.

This was the peace she'd been looking for—this moment right here where she was boneless and blissed out, not thinking of anything but that his body was warm and his arms were strong as he carried her to his bedroom.

When he lay on his side alongside her, he tilted her head up to kiss her—a long, slow, languid kiss as his hands brushed down her body. Eventually, his questing fingers reached between her legs, finding her sensitive clit.

So they passed a whole night. They didn't speak much but consumed each other. They kissed and licked. They gave and took.

And when their eyes were hooded, their kisses slow—no more than shared breath with the occasional brush of lips—Bella let sleep take her.

She didn't dream.

 _ **~0~**_

It was almost afternoon when they decided to stay awake. They'd both gotten up to visit the restroom, and Edward had called in to work, but they'd spent the better part of the morning simply tangled up in each other's arms.

In the daylight, coherent thought came back. She wasn't as out of her skin anymore, but it was still a lot. Not even the delicious ache of her sore body could distract her from everything else. Last night, she'd had to outrun it. She just couldn't deal with it. Today, she had to put her big girl pants on and deal.

Edward caressed her cheek, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. His eyes were gentle as he watched her, and she warmed, knowing at least she wasn't alone. She licked her lips, resting her hand at his hip and stroking her fingertips in nonsensical circles.

"I'm glad you're here," he murmured. "I know I told you last night, but I'm glad."

She hummed, thinking about that. "It was still stupid and irresponsible," she said in a scratchy whisper. "I had a job, you know? I didn't have to burn every bridge." She looked down at his chest. "I don't know what to do now."

"Hmm." His fingers kept moving through her hair, gentle, smoothing out tangles as he did. "I know it's a lot. The whole… It's too much. I remember that."

She raised her eyes to his, struggling not to gnaw on her lip. She felt way too close to tears, and she didn't like that.

He smiled, his eyes gone sad. "After it happened, it was a long time before I was better physically. That was… That was almost easier. When you're recovering from an injury, rehabilitating muscles that have atrophied, all that, the steps are clear. It's hard and it hurts, but there's nothing confusing about that.

"But when my body got better, then I had to decide what the hell the rest of my life was supposed to look like. I had to decide what I wanted."

"Is that how you ended up doing all the things your friends wanted to do?"

He sucked in a breath, and Bella winced. "I didn't mean that in a bad way. Just… It makes sense. It makes sense not to start from scratch if you don't have to. If someone else's plan was there, why not?"

"Yeah, that's… Maybe that's not far off base. I hadn't really thought about it that way, but I can see that." He looked back into her eyes. "So, haven't you ever thought about what you wanted to do with your life? Anything. Pie in the sky; it doesn't matter."

"You mean like, for a living?"

He nodded, and Bella laughed. "Jesus, Edward. I have no fucking idea. The last time I thought about what I wanted to be when I grew up, I thought I wanted to be a marine biologist."

"You could—"

"I also thought all there was to marine biology was swimming with whales in a wetsuit. I don't actually want to do any of the work."

He smiled, his small grin genuinely amused. "Okay. Let's add swimming with whales to the bucket list, then."

Bella made a hand movement as though tossing the idea like a basketball into the net.

"What else?" he asked softly.

"Nothing."

"You—"

"I survived." Irritation prickled along her spine. "I don't know. I don't know what the hell—"

"Okay. You're right," he said quickly. "That's maybe the biggest decision. That was my bad. I forget. I had all the basics when I started to put my life back together. I had the ability to figure out the end goals and then start making steps. It's the steps, you know. The trick is not to look forward to how many steps there are until your end goal. The trick is to look forward to what it will take to complete a step. Steps are manageable."

"Okay. Steps." Bella pressed her lips into a thin line. "I guess we have to start with the mess I made coming here like this. How do I sell my house? What do I do with my stuff?"

"Selling the house is the easy part. Mom will find someone to take care of that. So, let's start with stuff. How do we get your stuff here, and where—"

"I don't want it," Bella blurted.

He sucked in a breath and looked at her. "What?"

"I don't want any of it. I have all my clothes in my bags. My papers too. And I scanned all the old photos." She made an attempt to smile. "I had time on my hands before."

He looked so sad, like he felt sorry for her, that she couldn't look in his eyes anymore. She dropped her gaze down to his chest, her eyes stinging with tears she refused to shed.

It was pathetic, wasn't it? The idea that her entire life could fit in two large bags and the contents of a disk drive.

He cupped her cheek and shifted close to her, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. "We'll talk to Mom," he said softly. "Whoever she gets to take care of the house, they can arrange a sale too. They get a cut of the profit, but the rest gets sent to you. They do that sometimes. You don't have to go back if you don't want to."

She exhaled on a gust, letting her eyes close. She didn't know until he said those words how much she didn't want to go back. The relief that spread through her was palpable. Though it left a hollow pang in her heart, she thought it might feel better to bury the past once and for all.

That was the whole point of this, wasn't it? Burn that bridge to the ground so she couldn't run back there.

She opened her eyes. "So talk to your mom, get the house in order. Step one."

"Step one," he agreed.

She was quiet a few seconds, trying to sort out if that felt better. "It feels like a small thing."

"Maybe against _all_ the things, but it isn't. You know what they say. The journey of a thousand miles begins with one step or whatever." He smirked when she rolled her eyes. "Hey, it's cliché, but it's true. You have to start somewhere. No choice but to start somewhere."

"Yeah. Yeah."

Edward took her hand and brought it to his lips, pressing a tender kiss to her knuckles before he began to play with her fingers, looking her in the eyes. "Want another cliché?"

"Sure. Why not."

"Today is the first day of the rest of your life."

She snorted, but she smiled, and he smiled back. "Here's the thing," he said. "Bear with me, because I don't want you to think I'm saying something I'm not.

"I don't think you have a mental illness." He pressed his hand to his heart. "Like me. Depression, PTSD, anxiety… Those are mental illnesses. But, I think a lot of the same theory applies. You're not sick like I am, Bella, but your mind, your psyche, can still trick you. Things like how hard it is for you to believe anything good can happen or that there are people you can trust. You've been running alone for so long.

"Mental stuff, to put it ineloquently, is tricky. You know when someone has cancer and they talk about the fight? They're going to fight it? Their friends and family are going to fight together?" His eyes searched hers, and Bella nodded. "I think mental health is like that. You have to fight back. You have to want it."

He shifted close to her again, pulling her into his arms. "There are going to be bad days. And as much as I'm going to be here for you, and my family will too, there are going to be days when you fight alone. A lot of it is going to suck."

She snuggled close to him, her heart pounding hard for no reason she could figure. She pressed her open palms to his chest, feeling the steadiness of his heartbeat.

"It's going to be okay," he said. "We'll figure it out."

* * *

 **A/N: Soooooooo. How are we?**


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: I updated during the time when FF was being mean. An alert never went out, so make sure you've read the previous chapter. (And yes, Cerebral anon, I did update after April 11. FF never showed it even though the chapter showed up.)**

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It had been four months since Bella had arrived on his doorstep. Life was… Well, it wasn't great for his anxiety issues. He'd never worried about another human being in his adult life. Not like this. It was a whole different way to obsess.

She'd let Esme vouch for her to her realtor buddies and other contacts. As a result, Bella had fairly steady work as a sort of handyman. She bounced between houses that were being fixed up or remodeled, fixing broken appliances, repairing damage to walls and floorboards—whatever needed to be done for people who would trust Esme's word in lieu of certifications and company backing.

Her reputation was beginning to speak for itself, but the whole set-up still made Edward nervous. It wasn't a dependable source of income for one thing. If it was him in her shoes, his first priority would have been to find a job that included a steady paycheck from a company with a business license.

"I'm trying not to mansplain to her," Edward said at lunch with his brother. "She knows how to live her life. She's all grown up, but it bugs me. What if she stops getting work? Can't collect unemployment because she's never had a paycheck." He grimaced. "Or if she ever wants to get a real apartment. You need a paycheck for that kind of thing."

Emmett looked across the table at him, nodding. "That's the one that gets me. The paycheck thing. Yeah, I get that. But it's not like she can just go to the job store and pick up a job just because she wants one. She has a record anyway, doesn't she?"

"Misdemeanors. No felonies."

"Still, the job market isn't that great. But the house thing is the worst. You and Mom both offered her a room. I don't get why she prefers to jump to a new house every week. She lives out of a suitcase, for fuck's sake."

Edward was quiet at that. Hands down, Bella's living situation bothered him the most these days for more reasons than he wanted to admit. Among those reasons was that he couldn't stand to think of what her life looked like. It was as though she couldn't break free of the nomadic life even if the distance between temporary homes had gotten much smaller than it had been in other periods in her life.

"I think she's a lot stronger than me in a lot of ways," Edward said after a minute.

"What do you mean?" his brother asked.

"I mean, my method of survival was to grab on to the nearest thing, hold on tight, and close my eyes until the world stopped shaking. She learned how to walk upright while the ground was crumbling out from under her feet."

Emmett flashed a bemused grin. "Dude. You're getting all poetic over a woman. You know that, right?"

"Don't start."

To his credit, Emmett knew when Edward really didn't want to be teased. He sobered again. "She's going to figure it out sooner or later, you know."

Edward's head snapped up, and he looked at his brother with wide eyes. "Figure out what?"

"That the world isn't shaking anymore, and she doesn't have to compensate."

"Oh." Edward pushed his pasta around the plate. "Sure. Maybe."

 _ **~0~**_

Some days, it was surprisingly simple to fall into an easy friendship with Bella. When she was relaxed, things were just _good_ _._

Bella made the claim that she didn't think she'd ever react emotionally to a television show. By that time, Edward knew Bella had a competitive streak, and she rarely backed down from a bet. So, he'd bet her he could find a show that would make her react, and she'd accepted the challenge.

Some weeks and three seasons into an eight-season show, Bella fell face first onto a blanket they'd spread out on his living room floor. This after she'd thrown all the couch throw pillows at the television set. She writhed, grumbling incoherently and flailing while Edward struggled not to laugh his ass off.

He slid off the couch onto the floor beside her and waited patiently until the mumbling slowed down with long silences in between. He patted her back in a 'there, there' motion. "Has someone been emotionally compromised?" he asked in a sing-song voice. "Season finales are meant to be tough on you."

She rolled onto her side, glaring at him. "You. How dare you? I don't deserve this. Ugh." She threw an arm across her eyes dramatically. "I feel personally victimized by a television show."

"That does happen."

She grinned at him. "You're a huge nerd, you know that?"

"Shhh. Don't tell anyone."

She giggled. The sound made him smile. Then she sighed, rolled onto her back, and looked up at the ceiling. "You want to hear something that's maybe pathetic?"

"I doubt it's pathetic, but go ahead."

She didn't speak right away or look at him. There was a weird, wistful smile that played at her lips as she considered her words. "I don't think I've had a friend. I mean, there have been people I've had some fun with, you know?" She rolled her eyes. "And people I could get into trouble with. But no one I could just hang out with like this."

Edward's heart ached, and he had to swallow down a lump in his throat. "You hung out with that really annoying kid when we were young," he said when he was sure he could keep his tone light. "What the heck was his name?"

"Jacob." She laughed. "Yeah, I remember that. He used to like to antagonize Leah. He thought it was funny to get her all riled up, and he didn't think much of you."

He scoffed. "The feeling was mutual. Believe me."

Bella hummed. "Jake was a friend, I guess, but he had this weird dynamic. He'd always ditch me for these other friends of his from the rez. It was weird because it was one of those 'me or them' type of things. Like he couldn't juggle the two, and they always won."

"See? He was a dick."

"He was a kid."

"Kids can be dicks." Edward hesitated a beat. "You had Seth."

"Yeah," she said sadly. "Well, kind of. He outgrew me pretty quickly when you guys started letting him hang out with you."

Not for the first time in his life, Edward wished he had a time machine. He wanted to go back, tell the obnoxious kid he'd been to include Bella on their fun. Yeah, she'd seemed like a baby compared to him and Leah, but that was dumb.

He just wished that someone at some point had taught Bella that not everyone was going to ditch her.

She sat up and scooted so her back was against the sofa. "Don't feel bad for me, though. If I didn't have any friends when I was younger, it was my own fault. When I was with my mom in the early years, we moved around so much I didn't bother to get attached. When I came to live with Dad, I was just bad at making friends. I guess I didn't have patience for the kids my own age." She bumped his side. "Leah's friends were much more interesting to me."

He bumped her back. "Took me a while to come to my senses, but I'm here now." He paused a beat and smiled. "Besides, that's not pathetic. I haven't had any friends, either." He pulled his legs up to his chest. "Not since then."

"Really?"

He shrugged. "I have work acquaintances; people I can get into a little trouble with. No handcuffs involved, but remember I told you I got punched once?"

"Yeah."

"See? A little trouble."

She looped an arm through his. "You've got a friend in me," she warbled off-key, crooning the song from _Toy Story_ as she swayed them from side to side.

He had to smile. "Now who's the nerd?" He flicked the tip of her nose gently. "But you want to hear the good news?"

"Having me as a friend isn't good enough news?"

"Besides that. Since you've been living under a rock and haven't seen any of these shows, you don't have to wait for the next episode."

Bella leaned against him, settling in as he started up season four.

 _ **~0~**_

Other days weren't so easy. Some days, Bella didn't need a friend. She had an itch under her skin that needed to be scratched. She needed not to be in her own head.

On those days, she showed up on his doorstep without warning. He could always read it on her. It was there in her hectic eyes, the way she had her arms wrapped around herself defensively, the way she shifted on her feet.

No, it was never friendship that made him reach out, taking her by the hand and pulling her into his house. They didn't talk. Not really. They didn't laugh together. They tugged off each other's clothes, attacked each other's mouths, and fucked.

They fucked hard and fast. Filthy, primal sex that was meant to drive thought and emotion out of their heads and bodies. He understood what it was to search for a peace that could only be found in oblivion. They found that oblivion, that blissful silence, in each other rather than at the bottom of a bottle.

Afterward, it could be downright nice. There was a quiet tenderness to the time after. They kissed or simply looked at each other, fingers caressing as their bodies cooled.

Or there were moments like now, when he came out of the bathroom to find her perched on the edge of his bed, staring off into space. He couldn't read the look on her face, except that it was far away from this room. There was just something about her, when she looked like that, that made Edward's heart ache. It wasn't necessarily a bad ache. It was the kind of depth of emotion elicited by a work of art or a particularly poignant piece of music.

Since she was well and truly checked out, he gave himself leave to stare. She was lovely; hair falling loose and mussed about her shoulders. Her eyes were sad, but there was the hint of a smile playing at her lips. She held herself upright and straight, but her head was tilted down. She wore only a robe. It hung off one shoulder, making her look almost delicate, which was so incongruous to how he saw her—tough as nails and stronger than she should have to be. There was, he thought, a vulnerability to the way she held herself, and, at the same time, a quiet strength.

Watching her, knowing how she was trying to piece together the shambles of her life, he wanted to tell her a secret. The problem was, of all the people he couldn't tell this secret to, for so many reasons, she was at the top of the list.

The secret was this: He knew he was falling in love with her.

As much therapy as he'd had, Edward was only too aware why that idea scared the shit out of him. He hadn't loved anything since he was seventeen years old—not his job, not his hobbies, not any aspect of his life, and especially not a woman. Sure, he loved his family, but that was different; they were the only thing he had left of his time _before_ _._ Loving something meant a part of him could be destroyed if it were lost, and he wasn't sure if he was strong enough to risk even that much destruction ever again.

Of course. His psyche shied away from caring about anything, from truly wanting anything, and here he was, falling for a woman who was the definition of a flight risk. She was a bird on the wing, touching down on a branch, ready to flit away on a whim. Being with him like this calmed the restless, anxious spirit in her, but that didn't mean she could be tamed.

There was Bella, the woman who was quickly becoming his best friend, and Bella, his drug of choice. He wished he could silence the voice in his head that wondered if she could ever be Bella, his partner, his lover.

As he always did, he pushed that thought away and went to sit by her. She sighed, closing her eyes as the bed dipped. She tilted her head, giving him access to her neck so he could drop a trail of kisses there. "What are you thinking about?" he asked.

Her answering huff of laughter was wry. "Your mom, actually."

Edward lifted his head. "Well, that's disconcerting."

Bella shifted, angling her body toward him, her expression weary. "Well, not only your mom. Just that I think she's been talking to people behind my back. Nothing bad—just the opposite—but I don't get it."

"What do you think she did?"

"It's just that one of the realtors I'm doing work for offered to pay to get me into a trade school—plumbing or electric; my choice." She shook her head, her eyes widening a moment in disbelief at her own words. "I don't know if I like the idea that she's asking other people for favors for me."

Edward blinked, turning the information over in his head. He was at least ninety percent sure his mother would have told him if she were going to do something like that. "What makes you think she did that?"

Bella looked up at him, her expression almost childlike with uncertainty. "Why else would Maggie have offered something like that?"

"Because you do good work?" Edward suggested gently. "Because what you do isn't entirely legal, and it would be better for everyone if you were licensed. You're an asset to Maggie, Bella. You're dependable, and you do good, fast work. She makes more money because you do such a variety of odd jobs well."

Bella was quiet at that. He sat beside her, stroking her back. It was a full minute before she whispered, "I feel…" She swallowed hard. "I feel like a fraud. I mean… I do the work and do it right, but I don't really feel valuable enough that she should be spending an obscene amount of money on me. She pays me for my work. That makes sense. This just doesn't."

"The realtors Mom works with, that you work with now, make a lot of money. The cost of sending you to school isn't so obscene. A lot of companies have programs designed to help their employees go to school for the same reason—they're more valuable when they're educated."

"I know that. I just…" She shrugged helplessly.

He wrapped an arm around her, and she tilted her head so it rested on his shoulder. He tilted his head against hers, stroking her hair. "You feel fake," he said.

She shuddered but didn't say anything.

"I feel fake," Edward said. "That was exactly what I did from minute one. Fake it until you make it. When I had to face going back to school, graduating high school and then taking on college, I faked that I knew what I was doing." He'd never struggled in school before, but when he went back, it felt like it couldn't possibly be that simple. "But I got through it. I did well. I faked everything. I faked that I could interact with people. It's never easy for me. It's still not. When I went to work, I faked my confidence and that I know what I'm doing." He laughed. "But in all that time, no one has noticed that I'm faking it.

"I _feel_ like a fake, Bella. Every single day, there's this fear at the back of my head that someone is going to figure it out, someone is going to call me on it, and then everything will fall apart. I _feel_ like my whole life is fake, but… It's my life. It's the only life I have. It's real." He stroked her cheek, turning her head to face him. "You're real."

She stared at him, her eyes wide and unfathomable. He stroked his thumb over her lips. "Maybe that's the secret no one tells you. Maybe we're all just faking it—pretending we know what the hell we're doing when none of us really does."

She laughed, a shaky sound. "It's amazing the world hasn't gone up in flames."

He heard what she was really saying. _It's amazing my world hasn't gone up in flames_ _ **.**_

But rather than assure her that her life wouldn't crumble around her—he knew better than to make promises he couldn't keep—he kissed her. He stroked his hands down her body. He pushed her back on the bed and lost himself inside her, wondering if she heard the words he couldn't say out loud.

 _This is real too._

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 **A/N: Hope you're all having a fantastic weekend! Thank you so much to Iris, Packy, MoH, Betsy, Eleanor for everything they do for me. I'm a pain in the ass. You better believe that.**


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: Hello, my patient ducks. I'm getting my house ready to sell, so life has been a bit bizarre lately. Thanks for hanging on.**

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"Hey, don't wake up. I have you."

Bella hummed. Her brain was floating. She was floating through some kind of pleasant haze. Warmth surrounded her. She curled toward it, snuggling closer.

This was a good dream. She'd fallen asleep in her textbook; she just knew it. She'd wake up with a highlighter streak on her cheek from where it had bled off the page. Drool might be involved.

The warmth pushed her gently away, and she whimpered. The haze swirled.

"Shhh. Don't wake up. Shhh. Shhh."

There was something soft against her back, but she wanted the warmth. She reached for it, tangling her fingers in cloth. Her eyelids fluttered, and she stared.

Green eyes. Disheveled bedhead. Those lips she loved to kiss. Smiling sleepily, she cupped a hand behind his head, threading her fingers through his silky hair. She brushed her lips against his, a barely there kiss that was more breath than substance. "C'mere." She tugged on his hand.

The warmth enveloped her then, and she relaxed back into a deep, dreamless sleep.

 _ **~0~**_

Bella woke, really woke, slowly. The haze lingered, but she had vague memories. Memories that were validated when she opened her eyes to find Edward in her bed.

The more awake she became, the more problems Bella found with this scenario. First and foremost was that she had a bed, and a bedroom, in Edward's house. Hadn't she promised herself when she moved here that it wouldn't happen? All of the Cullens had been so good to her; she didn't want to take more advantage than she already was.

It had kind of just happened. With school, Bella naturally had less time to work on houses. As such, she'd run out of time on one house with no prospects for another empty house on the horizon. In all honesty, she'd chosen Edward's house over his mother's because she was afraid his parents would figure out where she was going every time she spent the night with him.

That should have been her first warning. She was addicted to him; to the relief she felt when she was in his arms. She was addicted to the way his touch, his kiss, could shrink everything down to him, her, them. All the weight of the world tumbled off her shoulders as they tumbled into each other. What was that if not a high she chased?

Addicts were always good with excuses. Finals were fast approaching. She didn't have the time to figure out her housing situation. She did her fair share of the housework and made him dinner. Of course, he made her dinner twice as often, but she'd been distracted studying. That wasn't a bad thing, right?

Though, that may have been even more confusing. It had been a week since they'd had sex. Two mornings ago, she'd kissed him goodbye when he left for work—damn, he looked so good in his suit—without a second thought. Now, here he was, tucked beside her in bed after he'd carried her to her room when she passed out studying.

He looked so sweet, one hand tucked under his cheek, the other resting on her waist. Warmth filled her chest, and she reached out to smooth his hair.

She'd flirted with addiction before, chasing that high, that relief from the ache of existence. There were days in her past, when she teetered on the edge of going too far—her hand on the bottle before she'd even had time to have a bad day. Her finger hovering over the send button, ready to call a guy she knew would give her something good. Something that dissolved on her tongue or, well...whatever she needed to do to feel _good_ for a few hours.

Edward made her feel good.

Discomfort churned in Bella's gut. An itch started to burn under her skin.

Bella hung on to one thing only in the train wreck of her life. She always pulled out before she hit rock bottom. Before she fell over the edge into something irrevocable, she ran.

That was the itch. The itch to run before she destroyed something; before she couldn't be put back together again. Adrenaline surged, and she had to stop herself from shoving away from Edward.

No. She couldn't wake him up. It was rude, but he'd also be hurt.

That gave her pause. She rolled carefully away from him, out of bed, and crouched on the floor. Her eyes swept over the room, mentally packing. Only what she needed. But even as she mapped out where all her most valuable possessions were, she felt bad.

The idea this would hurt Edward made her throat close. Yet another sign she'd taken her need too far. She'd had friends before, but not like him. She'd had people who helped her get in trouble. Who, if she'd told them she needed to break a bad habit before it broke her, would only have told her to loosen up. Edward was a true friend. If only she could separate her addiction to him, to the high of sex with him, from the beautiful man who was her friend.

Bella climbed to her feet, her eyes focused on Edward's sleeping form. He looked so sweet in his sleep. He was sweet. Sweet and kind. It would be nice to climb back in bed. Maybe she could wake him with her mouth on…

No. Enough. She'd done enough damage to both of them.

 _Just start moving and don't stop until temptation is far, far away._

Bella found her duffel easily. She moved around the room making decisions, throwing the obvious things in the bag and frowning . When had she accumulated so many knick-knacks? She wanted to keep them all too. They'd been gifts. Coffee cups and figurines—little things that made the Cullen family think of her.

At the sight of them, Bella's breath left her in huff. The idea she needed out of this house, away from the temptation of losing herself to her addiction to Edward, seemed obvious one second before. Her gaze darted to the closed closet door and the smart pant suit that hung there. Rosalie had bought it for her when Esme had taken her to lunch with a man who ran an electrical services company. She'd need a company to give her apprenticeship experience.

She ran a restless hand through her hair, her brows furrowed. In her haste to correct this mistake she'd been making, she'd almost forgotten the complications. For one thing, she worked with Edward's mother frequently. Hurting Edward could quite possibly destroy the life Bella was building brick by bloody brick.

Bella let her duffel slide off her shoulder to the floor. She sank down with it, staring at the pantsuit as she drew her legs up to her chest and rested her head on her knees.

Losing her livelihood wouldn't be the worst thing. She had the money from the sale of her house tucked away for the time being. She'd survive that. But the Cullens were her friends. Emmett took her out to lunch when he thought she'd been working too hard. Alice sent her good luck messages and funny pictures throughout the day to make her smile.

"Bella."

She jumped, startled by the sound of his scratchy voice in the quiet of the night. Her shoulders went stiff and her breath got stuck behind the lump that rose in her throat. She heard Edward swallow hard, but his voice was quiet and even when he spoke again. "Are you going somewhere?"

Without turning back to look at him, she answered in a surprisingly steady tone. "I don't know." Then, she laughed.

"What's funny?"

With a sigh, Bella turned around. She sunk down on the floor cross-legged and ran a hand through her hair. "I don't know if I'm going anywhere in more ways than one."

Edward's lip twitched. He pulled his legs up on the bed, wrapping his arms around them and considering her. "You want to talk about it?"

Again, she laughed. "I really do."

Because this was her life. Edward was the best friend she'd ever had. Maybe the only real friend she'd ever had. He had a way of explaining some of the chaos in her own mind. She'd never had anyone to talk to about that kind of thing—the weird and random emotions; the way she craved a beautiful oblivion when it felt like her soul was just too heavy for her body to contain.

So, yeah. She wanted to talk to Edward about how she needed to run away from him, because she didn't have enough willpower to resist her cravings.

"So, what did I do that you felt like you had to pack right now?" Edward asked when she didn't continue. He smiled at her, though she could see the cautiousness in his eyes. "Did I kick you in my sleep again?"

He'd done it once. He'd been thrashing in the midst of a horrible nightmare, and his flailing foot connected with her thigh.

Christ, like a true addict, she had the shakes. She wrung her hands, fighting the rising anxiety. Why couldn't she fix her life like she could fix other things? She knew how to work hard, how to get her hands dirty, how to put elbow grease into it. Why couldn't she just set everything right with her hands?

"I woke up and I wanted to kiss you," Bella blurted. In the absence of anything rational, Bella preferred the simple truth. She'd panicked, and her first thought had been to flee.

"So the choices were either kiss me or run off to...wherever you were going?" Edward asked.

"I was talking myself out of it. I think I should get some credit for that." She got to her feet, too restless to be still. "I'm just trapped. Before, when I was doing something I didn't want to be doing, it was just a matter of getting off my ass and getting out. Away. Because here wasn't working.

"But now? You've all put so much damn work into me, into my life. I'm all wrapped up in your family."

Edward nodded carefully. "To be clear, I'm the thing you don't want to be doing."

She scoffed. "That's the problem. The things I want to be doing to you are endless and unbelievably filthy."

He shivered, his eyes going dark. "And that's a problem?"

Bella crossed her arms over her chest. "I'm using you. I'm using you to mitigate my moods. I'm using your body and now, when I'm not using your body, I'm just using the"—she flapped her hands helplessly—"peace you give out to calm my head down enough to study."

He quirked an eyebrow. "I'm peaceful?"

"School is… I mean, I'm like the Han Solo of handy work, okay? I can _do_ everything if you let me get my hands on it. But it's like fixing the Millennium Falcon. This one goes here. That one goes there. And, I don't know. Somewhere along the line my concentration got shot to shit. All these terms go in one ear and out the other, and I have trouble translating my whatever-works way of doing things with official moves.

"But when you're here… It's hard to describe. I feel like I can breathe. Like I can actually read a single sentence only once rather than a million times." She shook her head, remembering the frustration that welled in her every time her mind wandered.

Edward had a weird, pinched look on his face. He rose and stepped toward her, approaching as though he thought she was going to dart away from him. He stopped when he was a couple of feet in front of her, his eyes intent on hers. "Why is that a bad thing?"

Bella glared, but she couldn't find the right words. "I… I mean, it's obvious. I shouldn't be using you like you're medication for my fucked up head."

"You're not doing anything any normal person doesn't do."

She scoffed. "Come off it."

He tilted his head, not letting her drop his gaze. "I'm not trying to make excuses for you or blow sunshine up your ass. I think it's been so long since you've had anything normal that you don't recognize it."

"It's not normal not to be able to handle your own life without self-medicating."

He said the next word with a laugh. "I'm not actually a drug, Bella."

"But I'm using you like one."

He shook his head. An inexplicably tender expression came on his face and his eyes swept over her. He raised a hand and brushed the backs of his knuckles down her cheek before he looked her in the eyes again. "People have sex to blow off steam all the time. To relieve stress. To have a little fun.

"And as for studying, people learn differently, too. Maybe you don't learn well reading things in books or listening to a lecture. I'll bet if they were to teach class in a house where you could have your hands on the wires or whatever, you'd learn a lot quicker. But for now, maybe it's simply that you study better with someone else in the room than you do alone." He cupped her cheek in full and smiled. "All of it is normal. It's not you running. It's not you messing up. It's just you."

"Fuck," Bella muttered under her breath. Her heart was pounding so hard, affected by his words and his nearness.

She'd never really considered the idea there was nothing wrong with her.

Edward brushed her hair back away from her face so gently. "I'm not a doctor. I'm not a psychiatrist. But if you want my opinion, I doubt you have any kind of mental health problem." He drew a finger down her side from her shoulder, following the line of her arm. "You are a perfectly normal woman who's had a hard life." His lip twitched as he threaded his fingers through hers. "And I'm a mentally ill man who's had an easy life."

"Easy? You call your life easy?"

"Some fucked up kid shot me and murdered all of my friends." His voice got rough, scratchy at the end, and he had to breathe in through his nose before he could continue. "But my life isn't hard, Bella. Not the way yours is. I've always had enough money. Enough money to pay for the best care, both physically and mentally. Enough money to go to school. Never in my life have I even had to think about whether or not I could keep a roof over my head. I got far in the business arena young because I had connections. Most of all, I've never been without my family, without unconditional support."

Bella looked down and away from him, her jaw clenched because if it wasn't, her lower lip would begin to tremble. Her eyes stung. Edward traced the line of her chin with the tip of a finger.

"You break my heart sometimes, baby," he whispered. "I wish you'd cut yourself a little slack. You've kept your head above water for ten years with no support. Hell, with weights tied around your ankles. You've never given up, given in. Not to actual drugs. Not to Forks. Not to school, no matter how hard it's been. You're standing on your own two feet, though I know it doesn't feel like it. You work. You're moving forward. Just let us help you." He shuffled forward that last step and pressed his forehead to hers, closing his eyes. "Let me help you."

For a minute, Bella couldn't speak. Her throat was too tight. Her eyes watered and her heart thundered. She still hadn't wrapped her mind around the idea he'd presented.

There wasn't anything wrong with her.

She allowed herself to try to accept that idea. She was a normal woman who indulged in a few semi-unhealthy coping mechanisms. Who didn't?

Taking a deep breath, she let her eyes flick back to his. "Let you help me, huh?" Her voice came out raw, but she grinned at him. Wrapping her arms around him, she walked her fingers up his spine and pushed up onto the balls of her feet so she could whisper near his ear. "Giving me some good, deep dicking? Is that how you help me?"

He groaned and shuddered. His mouth found hers in an instant, and he kissed her with urgency. "Stress relief is important." He palmed her ass, bringing her roughly against him. "Can I interest you in a practical demonstration of the health benefits of the orgasm?"

She giggled against his lips. "Only if you insist."

He walked her backward a few steps and pressed her down onto the bed, scrambling over her. When they were nose to nose, he pulled back, breaking their kisses and looking into her eyes with an expression she didn't understand but left her breathless. "Bella…"

She ran her fingers through his hair. "What is it?"

For long moments, moments sizzling with energy and some strange tempest in his eyes, he only stared at her. "Nothing," he murmured, kissing her again. "Nothing at all."

* * *

 ** **A/N: BOOP.****


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: Shorty chapter, but the next one should be meaty. It should also be the final one. You hath been warned.**

* * *

For a few months after he got back from Forks, Edward felt as though his nerves had been rubbed raw. His panic and anxiety had been at peak level. Popping noises startled him. He zoned out at work more than once, looking over each of his coworkers, wondering which of them had an arsenal at home just waiting for the day they snapped.

Time and distance from the worst of anniversaries helped. The fact that his adult life—his job, his bills, his responsibilities—continued on at the same pace, oblivious to his cloudy brain or anxiety, was actually a comfort.

And Bella. As scared as he was she would flit out of his life just as quickly and completely as she'd flitted in, his investment in her had a focusing effect, drawing his attention away from his own inner turmoil. As he watched her meet challenges, and helped her through them when she let him, he couldn't get as lost in his own thoughts—the thoughts that always brought on the panic attacks.

Still, it wasn't an exact science. Some little thing would remind him, and he'd spend a week or even an evening going around in those pointless circles. What if, what if, what if? Who would he have been now if that whole part of his life hadn't happened? Who would his friends be? Would they all have still been in each other's lives?

What could they all have been? What kind of light had been taken out of the world?

When his mind did take him down that helpless road, if he could fall asleep at all, he often woke screaming. Sometimes, it was the pure terror, because in his dreams, he wasn't so confused about what had happened. He knew. He knew his name was in a book somewhere, marking him for death, because he had the audacity to fall in love with a pretty girl. He knew it was going to hurt and that he'd be able to do nothing as his friends died around him.

Sometimes, he was staring at Angela again. She always looked like an angel in his dreams, her smile soft and her eyes so full of love.

" _Close your eyes,"_ she said, and in his dreams, he fought her.

No, no, no. He couldn't close his eyes. When he closed his eyes, he would literally never see her again. He'd wake up in a hospital, and she would be gone. Everyone would be gone.

"Edward."

He flinched, but the hands that touched him then were soft and comforting. They weren't trying to hurt him.

"Shh. I'm right here. Open your eyes, Edward."

 _Open your eyes_. He heard the words on repeat, not quite able to understand them.

Such a gentle voice. A soothing voice. Soft hands on him, in his hair.

His chest hurt. Ached. He couldn't breathe. No, no, not again.

"Shhh. Feel the way I breathe. Listen. Match my breaths."

He _could_ breathe. It was difficult, but he could do it. It felt as though there were spikes in his chest running straight through his lungs, but that was because he was breathing too raggedly.

"Shhh." The voice rocked him, and he clung to her.

Not Angela. He knew that, even though he mumbled her name, rambling over and over as his mind struggled to find something tangible, something real.

The voice was real. The voice was Bella.

He was glad the voice was Bella, and for a minute while conscious thought continued to work its way through the heavy haze, he was guilty. He'd loved Angela. He really had. But…

But, Bella.

He understood where he was now. Not in a cafeteria in Forks; he was in California in his bedroom. Bella was beside him, holding him, rocking him. She was precious to him, which was terrifying. And maybe that was really unfair. Angela, as much as he'd loved her, had never gotten the chance to be this precious to him. Not that there was any kind of certainty she would have been, but the option was taken from both of them.

He'd survived. Bella had survived the loss of her family. They were both broken in different ways, but together… Together, they were so good.

His breath slowed. The nightmare broke, and his body slumped forward a bit. He was sitting up, Bella's arm supporting him. He covered his face with his hands and wept, overwrought and shaking but getting better.

Minutes passed, and some part of him felt warmth at his very center, fighting the chill the nightmare had left behind. He was hiccuping and sniffling—not attractive nor manly at all—but Bella never made him feel foolish.

"Can I ask you something about Angela, or do you think that would make things worse for you?" Bella asked when he was calm, his breath even and his eyes dry.

Edward straightened up, turning his head to look at her. He sniffled, wiping the last remnants of tears away from under his eyes. "Um... I don't think so." He leaned his head on her shoulder, enjoying the feel of her fingers through his hair.

He sighed. "Honestly, it's a shame you didn't know Angela. It's been such a relief talking to you about Seth and Leah. My parents like to think they knew my friends, but you know, I don't think parents can know any kids the same way their friends do. When I cut all ties with Forks, I lost everyone who knew them like that."

"You mean Angela wasn't as nice as your parents made her sound?" Bella teased.

Edward's heart gave a squeeze. He laid back in bed, bringing Bella down with him. She continued to run her fingers through his hair, her fingertips rubbing his scalp. "She had her moments," he said. "She wasn't always the angel Mom makes her out to be, though."

Bella snorted. "People are rarely as amazing in real life as they are in death." A beat of silence passed between them. "Was that okay to say?"

"Yeah. I know what you mean. I was just thinking it's partially true when you're alive, if you survived something." He huffed. "In Forks, people came up to me with tears on their cheeks, talking about how I'm brave, and I'm a fighter, and remembering this or that minor achievement as though I'm some amazing person. All I did was nearly bleed to death, and I'm not that great."

Bella picked up his hand and started to play with his fingers. "I think you're amazing."

The soft admission took him by surprise. This far into their friendship, Edward knew the Bella he saw on a day-to-day basis was 90% false bravado. Fake it until you make it, he'd told her. She'd been good at it well before they met again; he'd just given the feeling a name as he waited for her to realize that this time—this time—she had landed on solid ground.

But every so often came a moment like this. Even though she was studiously staring at his fingers, he could see the vulnerability written all over her face. She'd given him a piece of herself, a glimpse into what she truly felt.

"Why were you asking about Angela?" He stroked his fingers along hers, his eyes intent on her bowed head.

She shrugged. "Nosy, I guess. Sometimes, I wonder."

Gently pulling his hand from hers, he cupped her cheek, pressing his thumb right behind her ear. "Wonder what?"

She still played with the fingers of his free hand. "She was cheated. That goes without saying. There's this whole life she didn't get." She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, then shook her head, as though laughing at herself. "I guess I was curious. What did you lose when you lost her?"

Now, it was Edward's turn to take a deep breath.

"I'm sorry," Bella said quickly. She set his hand down and wrapped both of hers around herself. "It's none of my business."

"It's okay," Edward said around the lump in his throat. He wanted it to be her business, even if it was difficult to say the things he'd kept locked in his mind. He pulled her closer to him and tickled her cheek with the tip of his nose. "I did love her, but it was a high school relationship, you know?"

He sighed, resting his head against hers. "Angela was fragile. I had this grandiose idea, this dream of taking her away from her life." He laughed at himself. "Like that Aladdin song. With the carpet."

" _A Whole New World_?"

"Yeah." He scoffed. "As if I knew a damn thing about the world myself. But Angie was like a kitten. She was kind of sheltered and helpless. I could've shown her a lot about how to live her life. I was just waiting to get her away from her parents after graduation."

"Well, it's nice to see some things haven't changed." There was a teasing note to her voice, but it was twisted somehow, just a note or two off. "You're up to your old tricks, taking girls away from their fucked-up lives."

Edward was quiet for a few beats, mulling over all the words that wanted to come out. He made a quick move, spinning so he could pin her body down on the bed as he hovered over her. "Angela was a girl." He kissed Bella softly, a quick brush of his lips against hers. "And I was a boy. We were children playing at love." He kissed her again, this one lingering. "But I'm a man now. I don't forget that when I think about Angela, when I dream about her. I don't forget that the person in my memory will never grow up."

He closed his eyes, kissing Bella one more time. Carefully. He knew he had to word this so carefully. She was returning his kisses, but he could feel the way her heart beat hard and fast in her ribcage. He pulled back, kissing her more tenderly. "I don't think I whisked you away from your life, Bella. That's the difference between being a kid and being a grown up. I didn't think I could save you. Saving wasn't what you needed. I didn't rescue you." He reached down and threaded their fingers together, bringing their joined hands up so he could kiss her knuckles. "I just held your hand, baby. Everyone needs a hand once in awhile, even a strong, beautiful woman."

She searched his eyes, her free hand finger-combing his hair. She was trembling. Slowly, she traced his features. She swallowed several times, licking her lips as though she wanted to say something. He pressed his tongue to the roof of his mouth, trying his hardest to give her space to find the right words.

In the end, she didn't speak. She traced the shape of his lips, her expression adoring and uncertain and so big that it made him breathless.

She kissed him then, and she didn't have to speak. Edward liked to think he could translate Bella pretty well by that point. He liked to think he knew the woman behind the bravado and skittishness.

The row of sweet, tiny kisses she peppered along his chin and up to the corner of his mouth were an apology. _I'm sorry I can't say it._ She teased his lips, asking him to kiss her back. _Tell me it's enough. For now._

He lowered himself down so his body pressed against every line of hers. He pressed his tongue to her bottom lip, seeking entrance. She opened her mouth, welcoming him in. She spread her legs, letting him slot closer against her body.

 _I hear you,_ his kisses said. He brushed his hands along her side, hooking his hand behind the back of her knee, tugging her closer. _It's enough._

* * *

 **A/N: I'll see you very soon.**


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: Hello, my dudes. Let's do this thing.**

* * *

Bella read the letter for the third time.

 _Ms. Bella Swan_

 _Contingent on your completion of courses and your official certification, we would like to extend an offer of employment with…_

As always, her eyes stopped at her proposed salary. She looked between her name and the dollar amount and hated the thought that went through her then.

She wasn't worth this much money.

A wry laugh bubbled out of her, and she pressed her palms into her eyes hard. She had the horrible urge to cry, and she didn't want to.

It was a fucked up thought. She was worth so much more than the dollar sign on the page. She knew that, would have said it out loud if she'd been asked, but she didn't realize until she saw the number that she didn't actually believe it.

Bella drew her legs up on the bed and rested her chin on her knees. She flexed her fingers, closing her eyes as nerves got the better of her. It was so much to lose. No way could it be real. No way could it last. Her luck was never this good.

She flexed her fingers again. There was that itch. Edward had been gently pushing the idea of therapy. It wasn't that Bella thought the idea of counseling was stupid or weak. She'd just always thought therapy was about learning to cope and becoming self-aware of your own bullshit.

Bella understood the itch under her skin, the restlessness that craved some kind of relief. It was fear. Today, it was fear of accepting, because to accept something good was to also accept that you could lose it. And there was just so much good in Bella's life right now; she was on edge waiting for the last shoe to drop.

When the anxiety got to be too much, she always wanted to escape. If not to run, to use. If not drugs, then Edward. He could calm her down. He could wear her out until she was too spent and distracted to think about anything else.

But no. No. Not because she didn't want to use him like a drug. It was, as he'd pointed out, mutually beneficial. There was nothing wrong with sex for the sake of sex as long as all involved were consenting adults.

Lately, though, sex with Edward had become something different. It was another kind of catalyst.

In the quiet moments she spent with Edward, there were so many words in her mouth, right on the tip of her tongue. There were words she sometimes wanted to shout from the rooftops, but they got too tangled and twisted before they came out. Maybe that was a blessing, though. Bella was a realistic person. Children were taught they could do anything, be anything, have anything they worked for, but that wasn't the reality of the world. It was better to know where you stood in the world. Sure, the sky was the limit, but some people's skies were bigger than others. That was all there was to it.

What she wanted with Edward wasn't something she was sure she could have in the long run. She couldn't tell if it was a stupid thing to even dream about. So, she kept her mouth shut about the whole thing, but that didn't keep her body from speaking.

At this point, she wasn't sure fucking Edward would have helped. She needed to mitigate this overwhelming feeling roiling in her, but what good would it do to be tossed from one too-great height to another?

Bella wrung her hands and stood from her bed. She paced, ran her hands through her hair, and decided she needed the fresh, evening air.

Outside, she sunk to a squat, gripping her hair in both fists as she tried to steady her breath. Frustration rolled through her, and her eyes stung again.

Would she ever have peace; a calm heart and a quiet mind? Life was good. She knew she had it good right now. Even if she was doomed to lose it all, why couldn't she just calm down and enjoy it while it lasted?

Her hands trembled. The need for action had her surging to her feet. She looked around wildly, wiping her palms on her pants. Her roaming eyes fell on a box shoved out of the way.

For a long minute or so, Bella stared at the items. Working on houses, Bella was often surrounded by the remnants of the previous homeowners. Some of it was wreckage—broken tchotchkes, mirrors, furniture, art. Sometimes, there were whole pieces. Things the owners didn't have room for or just hadn't cared enough about to take with them.

Some weeks before, she'd asked Edward if it was okay if she kept a box or two outside, tucked into an unobtrusive corner. It had looked like trash to him, and when he'd asked why she wanted the bits and pieces, she'd had trouble finding the right words.

"They loved these things once. Or at least cared enough about them to buy them. I don't know. I just think they're not done yet."

She sank down cross-legged on the concrete, taking care to be quiet as she sorted through the odds and ends. After a few minutes, she had neat lines of broken glass, metal, and wood in front of her. She ran a hand over her chin, considering them and pushed to her feet.

In an otherwise unused shed, Bella had stored—with Edward's permission—a few small pieces of furniture. A dilapidated nightstand and an end table that had been pretty once upon a time. She'd started to accumulate small pieces where she could, because she'd have a place of her own someday soon.

The place of her own plan had fallen by the wayside lately. Between school and work, life had been busy, and Edward was always so welcoming.

Pushing that aside—there was nothing she could do about it at midnight—Bella picked up the end table and hauled it outside. She considered the odds and ends, surveying from above for a few minutes before she swooped down and picked up a few.

As she began to arrange them on the end table, trying to find a way they all fit together on the surface, the tight fist of anxiety began to ease. Slowly, the tension drained from her body. She found a chair, leaning over her work as she began to plan in her mind.

"Bella?"

Bella yelped. Her head snapped up and she found Edward standing in the patio door, his eyes hooded with sleep. She put a hand to her pounding heart. "You scared me."

"Sorry," he said around a yawn. "What are you doing? It's two in the morning."

"Did I wake you? I'm sorry. I didn't think I was being noisy."

"You didn't wake me." Edward dragged another chair over and watched what she was doing. He tilted his head. "Oh, I see what you're doing here."

Bella arched an eyebrow, going back to sorting and rearranging pieces. "You do?"

"May I?" He extended a hand toward her work and waited.

Bella nodded and watched as he mixed up a few of the pieces she'd laid out. He took a piece of brightly colored glass from its spot on the floor and laid it down at the center. She laughed, delighted at the image that emerged. "Oh, that's lovely."

It was abstract to say the least. A blue sun made of glass, lopsided, with rays made of other strips of glass, ceramic tile, and a piece of metal. Beneath the sun was a vague outline of a person lying on a multicolored landscape. She hadn't even been aware of what she'd made until he straightened the image out.

"Now what?" Edward asked.

Bella considered. "Smooth down the edges of the glass would be a good first step. It would suck to get blood all over this. The wood needs to be sanded too, and any rough edges of the metal bits need to be smoothed off. Then gel the whole thing so it actually functions as a surface." She rubbed her chin. "Maybe some paint to the legs, because wood-color is too plain now."

Edward nodded. "Can I help?"

She glanced at him across the little table. "You really want to?"

"Yeah. I want to see what it looks like finished."

The idea of working on this project with him made her heart happy. A smile tugged at her lips, and she nodded. "I'll go get the emery cloth."

 _ **~0~**_

The day after Bella's last class, the Cullens threw her a small party. They rented a room in a swanky downtown restaurant. It was just them and a few realtor friends Bella got along with.

Bella couldn't shake the self-conscious feeling, though she did relax as the evening went on. It helped that Edward, sitting beside her, kept a hand on her knee, squeezing when she began to tense.

When she made a flippant remark about how it could all fall through, trying to laugh off her own fears and enjoy it while it lasted, they all just smiled. "It's just a piece of paper, after all," she said.

"That's the nice thing about school," Carlisle said. "No matter what happens to this particular job, you have a piece of paper that gives you solid qualifications. They're doors."

"And you have verifiable experience and connections now too," Esme said. She looked Bella in her eyes and she swore the woman was looking directly into her soul. "No one can take those things away from you. Just because you don't know what's on the other side doesn't mean the doors aren't open."

"And with that…" Carlisle, sitting at the head of the table, stood up. "I have something to say."

Bella's eyes went wide. Beside her, Edward laughed. He leaned in close so he could whisper in her ear. "You'll survive. I promise."

Carlisle and Esme were both smiling at her, their eyes shining. Bella's stomach did a flip-flop, and she flushed. She didn't really understand those looks, but they filled her with warmth and an unfamiliar form of pleasure.

Esme clasped Carlisle's hand, looking to him as he began to speak. He looked back at her briefly, a pinched expression passing over his face. "Almost twelve years ago now, a terrible thing happened to this family. To many families." He swallowed hard. "We almost lost our son. Our beautiful, loving boy almost had his future taken away from him."

Bella reached for Edward's hand. He'd gone a mite pale. Sure enough, he gripped her fingers so hard, she almost gasped.

Carlisle took a deep breath. "But, of course, Edward is here with us. We've watched him grow and, as with our other children, we've had the chance to celebrate his accomplishments."

Beside her, Edward swallowed hard. He still looked sallow, but there was a small smile playing at the edge of his lips, if a sad one. Esme had told her he'd refused a similar party every time he'd graduated. Edward, they all knew, wasn't living for himself. At least, he hadn't been then.

Carlisle went on. "But that same awful day I almost lost my son, Bella did lose her father. He didn't get to watch his only child grow up."

The lump in Bella's throat almost choked her. It was a mercy her father hadn't seen what she became.

"Bella." Carlisle's soft voice drew her attention. She forced herself to raise her head, trying to keep her breath steady.

Carlisle's voice and expression were gentle, a match to Esme's soft smile beside him. "Charlie was a man of very few words and restrained emotion. But, for all that, whenever he talked about you…" He waved his hand, as though at a loss for words.

"He lit up," Esme said. "Oh, Bella. He loved you so very much."

Bella couldn't hold her gaze. She looked down at the table. Now it was her turn to squeeze the hell out of Edward's hand.

"There's no doubt in my mind that he would have wanted nothing more in the world than to be there for you as you grew," Carlisle continued. "This isn't an easy world to navigate on your own. That you did so without much resembling guidance for so long is a testament to your strength.

"Your father and mother aren't here, as fair as that isn't, so I hope you'll forgive me for speaking on Charlie's behalf. He would be so very proud of you."

His tone was so sincere, Bella couldn't help but raise her head to look at him, at both Carlisle and Esme, again. She wanted to laugh it off. It wasn't such a great accomplishment. It was a certificate. Not even a full degree like thousands upon thousands of twenty-somethings, younger than her, completed every year.

But it was a big deal, and when they looked at her like that, Bella felt it to the core of her being. It was a sense that she'd done _good_ _._ Her parents were proud of her.

Oh. That's what that weird pleasure was. Approval. It was a vague memory, hazy in her head. Who could have guessed she was supposed to treasure those moments with her father?. Who could have known how much she would miss his approving smile when she did something as mundane as getting a good report card or turning in an impressive project?

With that, she wasn't able to hold back her tears. She covered her face with her hands, trying to get a hold of herself while Carlisle raised his glass in her honor.

Overwhelmed, she sniffled and stood, going to them because she couldn't speak. She hugged them and let them hug her. They both whispered again that they were so proud, and that this was the beginning of a good, successful life.

The others hugged her then, or shook her hand, congratulating her on a job well done. Everyone was so positive she'd made it.

Eventually, she made it back to her place next to Edward. He took her into his arms, cupping her face as he whispered in her ear. "They would have been proud of you too, you know."

"Who?" Bella asked, still a little choked up.

"Leah and Seth. I wish you could have known them the way I did. You were theirs. Kids can be dumb about things, but they always thought of you as one of us. They would have been here. Your brother and sister instead of mine." He brushed her hair back. "We're all so proud of you, Bitty."

Her family. Her father, Sue, Leah, and Seth. It should have been them here with her.

But Edward too. He was hers. Even in her quick, alternate universe fantasy, he was there with her. It could have happened that way.

She kissed him then, and she didn't care who saw.

* * *

 **A/N: There's going to be a likely very short chapter, and that will be the end, my doves.**


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: Now, I know I told you this was the last chapter, but there will be a rather short last chapter TOMORROW. I promise.**

* * *

The bride entered the room, flanked by her bridesmaids, and everyone sucked in a breath. They were the definition of resplendent, each of them in dark blue dresses that matched their forms. They were the picture of elegance in updos, high heels, and perfect posture.

Edward was both amused and riveted. He was amused at the performance of it all, the pageantry and grandeur. Most little girls dreamed of being princesses on their wedding. Not Alice. She'd always wanted to be a queen. And here she was, with her ladies at her side, leaving the peasants on either side of the aisle in awe of her splendor.

He was riveted not by his sister but by the vision walking behind her and to the right. Bella. To say she cleaned up like a new penny would be an understatement. She caught his eye, caught him looking at her with reverence, and ducked her head. Her cheeks were pink, but a smirk of a smile played at her lips too.

As Alice pledged her love and devotion to Jasper Whitlock, Edward mostly kept his eyes on Bella. How could he help it? Putting aside the over-the-top frivolity of the occasion, the largeness of what was happening couldn't be ignored. There was something to saying the words out loud—that they agreed to walk down the same path in their life together. That, through everything, they would be the most important person in each other's lives.

He looked at Bella and knew, for the first time in his life, exactly what he wanted.

After all this time, he still wasn't sure he could have it.

When the officiant declared Jasper and Alice husband and wife, Edward did as they'd practiced repeatedly. Alice and Jasper were followed by their friends, Charlotte and Peter. Edward offered his arm. Bella took it, and they fell in line, walking forward even as they looked at each other. That wasn't part of the script, but he couldn't look away.

There was that look in her eyes. That look that told him all the things she never said out loud. It was an adoring and happy look, uninhibited. When she looked at him that way, he believed he could have everything he wanted.

For a long while, Edward blamed his silence, his inability to talk about how he felt about Bella, on her skittishness. He'd told her once that time was all she needed to feel more secure in her own life. Time would disprove her fears; she would begin to truly believe his family loved her, that her colleagues valued her skills, and that she had as much security in her life as anyone else.

Slowly, his prediction proved true. Bella had come a long way. She was relaxed, steadily growing more confident in her abilities—and the idea she could always find employment doing what she did—and carving out a life for herself.

Now, Edward had to admit he was the one too scared to give voice to things he wanted. To say it out loud would be to admit he had something in his life it would hurt him to lose.

Did he really need to say it he wondered? He pulled Bella's hand to his lips to kiss her once before she drifted away with the women. They were together. Neither of them had said a word about it, but they'd become a unit as easily as if they'd been built exactly for each other. At some point, Bella stopped talking about getting her own place. Then, she stopped even trying to return to her own room. Her room had become a kind of workshop where they turned old furniture into works of art.

Half an hour later, Edward had made up his mind to forget about the heavy thoughts wandering his head. His sister was married, his family was happy, and Bella was there with him.

He smiled, awed all over again as the women reappeared. Bella really did take his breath away. He offered his hand, and when she took it, he drew her to him. He brushed the tip of her nose with a butterfly kiss, holding her tightly when she squeaked and tried to pull away.

"You're going to get makeup on your nose," she said, laughing.

"A little foundation never hurt anyone," he said, grinning impishly as he smoothed whatever makeup had gotten on his skin out.

"Edward Cullen. I'll hurt you if you mess up her makeup." His sister shook her bouquet at him menacingly.

Edward held up his free hand in a placating gesture. "I'll be good." He flashed another devilish grin at Bella. "For this picture anyway. The rest of the reception, all bets are off."

Bella rolled her eyes. "I'm going to mess up my own makeup as soon as we get to our tables," she muttered under her breath.

They took their places—third to be announced. The reception wasn't the regal affair the ceremony had been. Each of the couples, the groomsmen and their designated bridesmaids, came out to a different club mix, doing a different, thankfully short, choreographed dance. "Here goes nothing," he heard Bella say right before he pulled her out the door to the tune of will. 's "Scream and Shout".

He really did like the sexy move they did together, where he grabbed her, pulling her body up against his, and she dipped her head back. They'd practiced that move a lot.

Dinner was delicious. Bella, winking at him, swapped their drinks so she got the groom's drink—a whiskey and coke—and he got the bride's drink—a lemon drop. He didn't mind. It gave him an excuse to lick the taste of the whiskery right off her lips.

"Mmm. Whiskey flavored lipstick."

Bella snorted. "If it hasn't been invented, we should invent it." She kissed him. "You taste like lipstick and sugar."

"Obviously, the lipstick is an aphrodisiac." He kissed her again.

"Hey!"

Both Edward and Bella jumped as Emmett appeared and slammed his palms down on the table in front of them. His grin was full of teeth. "You see this?" He gestured at the table and their almost untouched food. "This is good food. I should know. I bought the caterer. I paid a lot of damn money, and you two are just sitting here eating each other instead."

"Is there something we can help you with, Emmett?" Edward asked, his hand on Bella's knee under the table.

"You can't do anything for me." He looked to Bella. "I thought I'd come over here early to make sure I got the first dance with you."

"You mean the sappy slow dancing that happens because everyone is emotional over the first dance and the father-daughter dance?" Bella arched an eyebrow.

"My wife's already pissed at me, so might as well go for broke."

His wife was ginormously pregnant. She was wearing a dress from the tent and awning company, and was pissed at everyone. "Okay." Bella pointed at him, shaking a finger in his face. "But no funny business."

"I can't help what my face looks like." Emmett winked and sauntered back to his place at the table, next to his grumpy wife.

It was a perfect night. His family and the rest of the guests were in high spirits. The dance switched quickly from slow and meaningful to a more active club mix. Edward hip-checked his brother out of the way, taking his place dancing next to Bella. Or in front of Bella. Or in the vicinity of Bella.

Modern dancing was weird.

They all did the Cha Cha Slide. Edward's father tried to join in the Macarena and failed. Edward, Emmett, and Alice nearly fell over, they were laughing so hard. Through it all, Bella was there with them, her face flushed and grin wide as she danced with all of them. She even took Carlisle out for a spin.

But when the music slowed again, she sought Edward out. She wrapped her arms around his waist and let him sway them gently around. They were both delightfully drunk—the call of "shots, shots, shots" had rung out on the regular all night long—and happy. Bella tilted her head up, he tilted his head down, and the din seemed to fade away.

It was so easy to imagine this night was theirs. Would she let his father walk her down the aisle? Carlisle would like that, Edward thought. She might be like Alice, who didn't like the idea of being given away as if she belonged to anyone.

He didn't want her to belong to him. He didn't want to own her. He just wanted to walk beside her. With her. A them, no matter what life had in store. Wasn't that the way this story ended? It made every kind of sense to him. Two broken souls should surely find their happily ever after together. The bittersweetness of life.

Lifting his head, Edward took her face in his hands.

His mental health issues had proven to him over and over again just how extreme emotions could be. Mostly, they shoved him into a fighter plane, set it on fire, shot holes in the wings, and killed the engine. It was fascinating and disorienting to feel this way. Such an immense, consuming feeling. He searched her eyes, stroking his thumbs over her cheeks.

Was it weird that he wanted, more than he'd wanted anything, to ask her to marry him right there and then? The words were poised on the tip of his tongue. He hadn't even told her he loved her yet. She knew. She had to know. Didn't she?

He opened his mouth, but the words caught in his throat. With a sigh, he leaned in and kissed her. "You want to get out of here?" he murmured against her lips instead.

She laughed, and her kisses tasted so good. "Yeah. Let's go."

Alice had arranged for drivers to ferry her drunk guests safely wherever they were supposed to go, and so Edward spent the whole drive kissing Bella. They were slow kisses, heated and building. He was annoyed when they pulled to a stop until he remembered it was far more convenient to have Bella inside, where they couldn't traumatize anyone.

There was a giddy flavor to the air, so as he held her hand, pulling her up the walk, he laughed. She laughed, and he swallowed the sound with another kiss as he pulled her in the door. "What are you giggling at?" he asked, peppering kisses around her face.

"You. I'm laughing at you." She scrunched her nose and brushed the tip of her nose against his. "You have a funny looking face."

"Uh huh." He pulled her down onto the couch, and she threw her legs over his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck.

They kissed. Long kisses with wandering hands and caressing fingers. They breathed each other in, neither of them in any rush to move things further. He could have stayed there forever with her in his arms. Was it so different? He was still using his mouth to tell her all the things he felt. And she was responding. She always did.

That was enough. Why mess with a good thing?

 _ **~0~**_

Most of the houses Bella worked on just needed a little TLC before they could be sold. Every once in awhile, though, she worked on a house that took a whole crew and a lot of construction work.

Edward didn't do well on construction sites. They were loud and chaotic, with bangs and pops aplenty to set off his anxiety issues. The problem today was the realtor of the house Bella was working on had called Edward directly asking him to come by with his binder.

Some time back, Edward and Bella had turned their hobby—redesigning discarded furniture with repurposed bits of old houses—into a lucrative side business. Their work spread through word of mouth, and it only made sense to take pictures of each piece so a potential customer could flip through a binder instead of coming to their home.

He could have said no. He definitely didn't need the money. Bella didn't either, but she hadn't gotten used to the idea yet. She always jumped at the chance to pad her bank account that much more.

So, Edward took off early from work, heading over to meet the realtor and his potential buyer on site. In the car, he took a few minutes to run through his calming exercises before he went in the door.

Not bad, he told himself. The closer he got to the noise the more his skin began to crawl. There was a general sense of discomfort, a churning in the pit of his stomach, and a hyper-awareness at the back of his mind. His eyes darted, taking everything in, searching for something amiss amidst the otherwise benign scene. All that, though, was typical. He was as used to it as anyone could get.

He tapped his fingertips along the edge of the binder, grounding himself and channeling his restless need to move into the subtle motion. He took deep breaths, inhaling the scent of sawdust. Nothing insidious about sawdust, he told himself.

"Edward, there you are." The Realtor, Makenna Charles, found him. He jumped when she reached for him, but only slightly. He relaxed, hugging her back. "It's good to see you. I'm glad you could stop by."

Makenna directed them to a quieter corner where her potential buyer was examining the list of scheduled changes and updates. There, Edward hit his stride. He was used to talking with people, customers. He was good at his job, and so it wasn't difficult to slip into a professional mode. It didn't take much concentration, so his low level anxiety didn't cause a problem.

He talked to the man about how Bella saw potential in items that might have otherwise been swept out with the trash. How they'd collaborated naturally, Edward having the ability to understand what she was seeing in the scraps of glass, wood, and otherwise.

"See, that's what makes this art," the man said, drawing a reverent finger over a dresser on the page. "Furniture is furniture, you know? Pieces of wood or metal or whatever. Maybe it looks nice, but there's no soul in it. This right here. This has a soul." He nodded. "I like the idea of knowing the background too. You and your woman put a lot of heart into this. It's alive. I really like that."

Edward liked that idea too. What a concept. He'd created something; put something into the world that only he and Bella could have.

When their business concluded, Edward remarked to Makenna that Bella would be pleased when she got home.

"You aren't going to tell her?" Makenna asked, eyebrow arched.

"I don't want to bother her while she's working." He knew how ridiculous the excuse sounded. Makenna had been there on other projects where Bella was working alone. He never had any problem coming to see her under those circumstances.

But Makenna didn't call him on it. She patted his arm. "Come on. She's in the kitchen."

Edward took a deep breath and followed her. Bella would be happy at the news, and he liked the way her eyes lit up with pride whenever she sold something she'd created. He could deal with a little loud-noise anxiety to see that face.

The noise in the kitchen was a lot louder. As the sound grew, the edginess got a little more difficult to ignore. A lump rose to Edward's throat, making it hard to swallow, and the buzz at the back of his mind got louder, making it hard to think.

As he entered the kitchen, flinching at the grating sound of a saw through wood, his eyes found Bella right away. That did a lot to soothe the anxiety. A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. She was perched on a ladder, her arms extended as her deft fingers sorted wires. She was a short woman, but her body was built to look long, especially like this. It was so sexy to see her in her element.

"Hey, Bella." It was Makenna who called out to catch her attention. Bella looked down. Her eyes skipped right over Makenna, and she grinned when she saw Edward. "Hey." She set down her tool and hopped nimbly down from the ladder, going to him. "What are you doing here?"

Before he could answer, the steady thwack, thwack, thwack of a nail gun driving long, thick nails into wood made him flinch again. His fingers tingled, and he clenched his hand hard around the binder. "I, um…" He held the binder out. "We sold a few more pieces."

"A few? Wow." Bella's tone was sincere, but he could see the way her eyes swept over him. She knew he was distressed. In spite of himself, he flinched again as one of the construction guys shouted to the other. "Hey, it's really loud in here. Let's go outside, huh? It's so dusty, I could use the fresh air."

The slightest twinge of shame churned in Edward's gut, but he was more relieved than anything. Then again, he knew Bella wasn't judging him. She understood his condition and helped him manage the same way his parents did. There was nothing to be ashamed about. He was lucky to be so well loved and supported.

"Just give me one second," Bella said, striding away from him toward the opposite door he wanted to go out of. "I need to wash off my—"

It happened very quickly then. Edward's already hazy, distracted mind processed the events in a series of images and sounds.

He saw a large, hulking figure appear suddenly, colliding with Bella's much smaller frame. He heard Bella's startled shout at the same time a weird pop, pop, pop rang out. The sound was enough to throw Edward's mind into a spin. He was instantly befuddled. Not a gun. Not that loud, but…

But Bella crumpled to the floor, screaming with an agony he felt at the marrow of his bones. She curled onto her side, her hands clutching low on her body.

Edward felt himself lurch forward. He heard himself call her name, but the sound was warped. Everything was warped. He thought he heard screaming. Noise. There was so much noise. He dropped to his knees at her side and put his hands over hers. Her skin was slick.

Blood. A lot of blood.

Images flashed before him. Erick Yorkie holding a gun. The bang as it fired. Again. Again. Again. Screaming. So much screaming. Leah crying her brother's name. Charlie Swan's voice.

And Angela. Angela's oddly serene face. Her soft voice.

 _Close your eyes._

No. No, he couldn't close his eyes. Because it wasn't Angela on the floor in front of him. It wasn't Angela's blood on his hands. It was Bella's, and she was anything but serene.

"Edward? Edward?" she cried, eyes unfocused.

"I-I-I…" He tried to take a deep breath. His lungs were in a vice grip being squeezed tighter and tighter. His heart raced out of control. "I'm h-h-h-ere."

He couldn't get enough air in his lungs. His hands scrabbled uselessly. Across from him, one of the construction workers shouted orders and questions. It was all Edward could do to hold onto Bella's hand, trying to think around the increasingly loud voice that screamed in his head.

 _Not again. Not her. Not her._

His head swam. So much blood. And Bella's eyes closed. Her body went slack, still.

Gasping for breath, the world went hazy, and Edward lost his battle for consciousness.

* * *

 ** **A/N: I PROMISE.****


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N: Hey from TFMU. Sorry for the delay. My words got eaten, and I had to start over. There's a lot of alcohol here, so… ya know. Any mistakes are mine.**

* * *

Bella was aware, though not in any concrete sense. She simply was. She was aware of herself, and aware of the murmur around her. Someone was upset. An important voice sounded with anguish, and, right then, she was made of the need to comfort it.

Him.

Edward.

She could hear the tone of his voice, tortured and afraid. She wanted nothing more than to wrap her essence—for that was all she was at that point—around him. To pull him into herself and soothe away the anguish. It was a powerful need, but not as consuming as the blackness that tugged at the edges of her awareness.

The blackness won, and she returned to a dreamless sleep.

When the awareness returned, her most stubborn thoughts found enough purchase to fight through the haze of her mind. They turned from liquid and vague to something concrete, and she realized more of what she was feeling.

Drugs? Had she done some weird drug? Had she overdosed? She could find no explanation for the lack of control she had over her body. A sense of failure washed through her, bitter disappointment. Had she fallen as she'd always expected she would someday?

"Hey. Bella."

Edward. She felt his soft fingers on her cheek, streaking her cold world with warmth. Her body was heavy and lethargic, but she thought maybe she could get her eyelids to work if it meant she could see him.

"You're okay. Shhh."

She hadn't realized until that moment she was whimpering. Almost instantly, she calmed. If Edward said it was okay, she knew it was. She concentrated on breathing and opened her eyes.

"Hey, you." He picked up her hand, cradling it in his, and kissed the backs of her fingers. "Don't be scared, beautiful. There's not a thing wrong with you."

He swallowed hard, and even in the state she was in, Bella could see the color drain from his face. He looked like death warmed over, terrified and just so...angsty. Edward's natural state, but amplified by, well, a lot.

"You lost a lot of blood," he whispered. "You've had blood transfusions." He hesitated a beat, his eyes gone even more anguished. "And you've been through surgery. It was your kidney. A nail gun." He laughed, totally without humor. "Those nails are so damn long. It clipped your kidney, but the damage was easy to repair. Just a scare. That's all."

She wished more than anything she had the strength to touch him. Just to cup his face. He needed the comfort. He needed to believe his own words as much as she did. She would be fine. It took a while to recover from blood loss. A lot of sleep.

She closed her eyes and slept.

 _ **~0~**_

"It wasn't your fault," Bella said.

She was sitting up in bed now, still drained but at least not so exhausted that she couldn't keep her eyes open. They clung to each other, fingers entwined.

He looked down, playing with her fingers. "I was useless to you. That shouldn't happen."

"An asshole construction worker shouldn't have a nail gun in his hand with the safety off." Bella shook her head, taking his hand in both of hers. "Edward, it's not your fault."

He didn't answer, and he didn't look at her. He kept playing with her fingers.

"Edward, I love you."

That got his attention. His head snapped up so quickly, she heard the snap of his neck muscles. She laughed and smiled, ducking her head. "You had to know that, but I'm sorry I've never said it before." A lump rose to her throat and she squeezed his hand too tightly. "Edward. I love you."

He let go of her hand and sat up straight, taking her face in his hands. He stared into her eyes, and her heart beat hard against her chest. She wrapped her hands around his wrists, brushing her thumbs over his skin.

He laughed. A wry sound. Shaking his head slowly as he kissed her with a kiss so gentle it about broke her heart. "I live that day over and over again in my head. It was one day in high school, and I should have forgotten it so long ago. Instead, I see it all the time. I always have." He took a shuddering breath. "I was a name on a piece of paper a lonely, fucked up kid used to mark people for death. So were so many people I loved. I lost so much that day."

Again, he paused, closing his eyes and tilting his head against hers. "I never let myself have anything that was my own. I lived their lives for them, because I was too scared to have a life I wanted." He lifted his head, staring into her eyes. "Bella," he whispered. "This life we've built together. You. All of you. I almost lost everything. Again.

"Not saying the words, not telling you that I'm going to love you for the rest of our lives, didn't keep you safe. And it won't." He took her hand and pressed it to his cheek. "I love you. I should have told you every day so you would never doubt. I love you, and I want to build a life with you. Our life. Together. A little you and a little me and a lot of both of us."

She tilted her head, studying him. Tears stung her eyes, and a lump had risen to her throat. "What are you saying?"

He stood up and sat on the edge of the bed, still clutching her hands to his chest. "Bella, I don't know how much it means to you, given that I failed you the minute you really needed me, but I want to be the one who protects you always. I want you, always."

She took his hands and brought them both to her cheek, tilting her face against him and then lifting her head to look at him. "It's a mutual thing, baby. I have your back, and you have mine. You needed me more than I needed you. It was a freak accident, Edward, and I'm sorry I wasn't there to walk you out of that hellacious panic attack."

He scoffed, looking briefly away. It wasn't easy for him to admit. He'd hyperventilated and passed out almost at the same time she did, but that wasn't his fault. He was damaged. So was she. They always would be in some way, and didn't that make them perfect together?

"Marry me, Bella," he whispered. "Whatever happens, let it happen to us. Not to you. Not to me. Us."

She wrapped her arms around him, hiding her face in his neck, trembling. "Yes," she whispered back.

In her life, she'd had so many things that were meant to be ephemeral—people, homes, jobs. Piece by piece, her life had gained some semblance of permanence. Permanence by human standards, anyway.

Nothing remained the same forever. Despite what they'd already been through, there was no promise they were safe from devastation. She could lose him, yes, but that was true whether or not she admitted her love; whether or not she twined her life with his on paper, before their friends and family.

"I love you," she said, raising her head to kiss him.

"I love you," he said, wrapping her in the velvet embrace of his arms.

Because they understood each other.

Because it was the most right and wonderful thing she'd ever felt in a world so often painted different hues of bad.

Because they could still have beauty, even though, once upon a time, someone—a lost, lonely soul—had brought ugliness and loss to their lives.

Because sometimes, bad things happened, but so did the good. And they were very, very good.

 **~The End~**

 **A/N: So many thanks to Mina, Betsy, MoH, Packy, and Eleanor, as always. I have a great team.**

 **Shout out to Ausha for helping me figure out the perfect way to end this little tale.**

 **Extra shout out to my impromptu betas, Nan and Breaking Aurora. They double checked me because I was more than a little drunk as I was writing this. LOL.**

 **Thank you. I hope you enjoyed.**


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